tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634894906218068192024-02-20T11:46:10.207-05:00Diary Of An Aging Rock GoddessBasically this is a journal written about my life and times as a working musician, now at the age of 51 I am feeling like I should tell some sort of story about things that have transpired so my children and so on, can get to know me better, something I really appreciated that my Mother did for us, so there ya have it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-73753386357701249572014-08-07T21:24:00.002-04:002014-08-07T21:24:35.119-04:00All The Young DudesWell it's been quite some time since I have written anything and it feels odd to be sitting here in front of a blank screen, white page, ready to go. I have had a turbulent year, and an active couple of months. I almost died from a "dead gallbladder" but I didn't, and that's kind of cool. SO to celebrate my still having a brain that works, I thought I would reflect...again...here. I guess what brought me to the blank white page on blogger.com this evening is the wine of course, and the fact that my favorite band from "the day" is doing a reunion show this weekend, 2 nights at Jilly's in Akron. I have been talking to friends and everyone is all a glow about having potentially 48 hours to relive our youth, reconnect with people we shared something so very special with and I am reminiscing as well. Hammer Damage was the first band I saw at The Bank in downtown Akron, 1979. I had never seen "punks" I was from Fairlawn and I wore Gloria Vanderbilt jeans. But once I stepped in there I was, so beyond, hooked. Not only was that band amazing, they were all so damn good looking, skinny and edgy and they just looked like trouble waiting to land on someone. I, of course, was hoping one of them would land on me. I have no idea why I remember this but I do, I wore a denim skirt, white shirt and black tie, tights and canvas mary jane shoes. I moshed in the pit, but it was probably way before they called it that. I was there because Liam Sternberg's (The Bangles Jane Aire and The Belvederes ) parents wanted me to "make it in the biz" and they talked to so and so and they thought if I did a song with Hammer Damage, I would be on my way, so I was there to check them out and meet with their manager, Dale. I don't know what it was but I fell in love with everything about the energy in the place, the energy of the band, their rabid fans and life in that club. I never did record a song with Hammer Damage they were far too cool to add an 18 year old chick from Fairlawn, but I started my own band and we went on to open for them more times than I can count. We even went on to NYC to showcase with them the next year. We were the "it" crowd, we were the Akron version of what was going on in New York during the Andy Warhol Edie Sedgwick period, or we thought we were anyway, we tried to be, it was quite the scene. I became very serious about creating that music, that energy and I wanted to absorb it all and spew it back out. I walked the walk, talked the talk, drank the booze and wore the clothes. Even when I wasn't playing out myself, which was not that often back then, I went to see Hammer Damage, I danced all night and I was in love with all of it. I made so many friends, well...acquaintances back then and we all would meet up and just dance, drink and dance some more. I thought they were like The Beatles, they had the cool look, the shaggy hair and the cool suits and every single girl I knew had a favorite. Mine was George with his tight pants and cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he was and is, one HELL of a guitarist. It was really very innocent, it was just that we were lucky enough to have our favorite band in our city. Like the girls at The Cavern in Liverpool, we could go whenever and the world did not own these guys (yet...in the case of The Beatles). Hammer Damage should have been such a huge thing internationally, but they had their bit of success, George went on to play guitar for The Dead Boys in their hey day (is that one word or two)?<br />
Now it's 2014 and I am not 18, I am 55 and I am still incredibly excited to go see Hammer Damage, in Akron, at Jilly's and I know there will be so many people from "back in the day" and it will be so strange and so exciting all at the same time. I hope I can forget that years, decades really, have gone on like a clock ticking frantically to get nowhere. I hope I can forget that I am an old woman just for this weekend. I hope I can just relive a little of what was then, with what I know now, how magical is that? It's like Time Travel, and though everyone is gray or fat or bald or wrinkled they will be just like me...trying to turn back the clock to a time when we were all young, wild, beautiful and full of everything that ever was, full of hope, not beaten down by money, failed marriages, death and dreams unrealized. For just a little while, all those hundreds and hundreds of people from the Akron Scene in the early 80's will gather again to dance a little slower, to hear a little less, to dress a little less provocatively and to appreciate it all one hundred million times more. Most of our children are grown, our parents are gone (so we can stay out all night) and our dreams lay dormant somewhere but that's OK because our hearts are the same, our souls are the same just housed in bodies we don't really understand anymore. I would love to wear my purple spandex pants, or the black ones, but alas that ship has sailed so I will skip the spandex and skinny tie, though I may be rebellious and break out the skinny jeans and my hair will be less Debbie Harry, but I will still have cool shoes, shoes are the one thing you can get away with forever. I will see gray versions of all the boys who once loved me. I recently had a conversation with an old friend, also a singer, she had way more success than I did and she was quite a thing for quite a while. We were talking about how "all the young dudes" adored us and we abused the power so many times and we pretended like we didn't know, didn't care but we did and we did. Thinking of seeing all the fan boys in all their middle aged glory is hilarious, I doubt they will recognize me I am most definitely not that girl anymore nor should anyone expect that of me, nor I of them and I don't. I am so anxious to know what everyone has gone on to, how they fared through all these years of "adult time". Fan boys turned into fan men, fan Grandfathers, still Hammer Damage fans, all of us. I ran into Mike Hammer today at The Bomb Shelter while looking for cool new things for my cool new apartment..he had no idea who I was. We used to hang out, he came to my house, we played softball on Sunday's and we shared the bill over the years SO MANY TIMES and yet it was all gone, he had no idea that I used to be Tracey, his pal from Unit 5. Time has not been all that great to me and I was not bothered by it to any great extent but it made me wonder about things...life, moments, memories. It's not possible to get through unscathed, we all have our demons, battles, trials and tests. I have had more than many and I am not the light hearted, ditzy blonde girl I once was and for some reason everyone still expects me to show up to things, 20 years old looking like Debbie Harry. Time stands still, in our minds until it doesn't and then, we realize how very fleeting it all is which makes events like these all the more special because once we get over the fact that we are all no longer 20 and looking like Debbie Harry, we realize that we are all still here, and fabulous and ready to dance...however slowly...to Hammer Damage one more time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-85634371332272718042013-12-01T00:16:00.001-05:002013-12-01T00:23:38.008-05:00Like Sand Through The Hourglass So Are The Days Of Our LivesIt's funny really....yet it's tragic but it's OK that it's tragic because like anything else in life, you get used to what you know and it's comfortable because it's familiar. So how did I get to this place where I will now and again laugh because it's so normal, that feeling when everything goes wrong? Is that good or bad? How did I get to this point where it seems I have reconciled the argument between my past and present, I almost miss the fighting because it was what I knew. I am sitting here listening to my wonderful family laughing downstairs, happy to know they are enjoying this place I have created for them to be accepted and loved, free of negative opinions and influences presented by the world outside the door that leads to all kinds of possible pain and all kinds of possible beauty. I not only have my children (grown or otherwise) here tonight to eat the leftovers from Thanksgiving, but their friends whom I have grown to love over the years and I am so happy to hear their voices down there, laughing, singing, cussing like sailors (probably my fault there). And I realize I am at peace with all the shit that has flown overhead and underfoot for 5 decades, I am happy and that worries me because it could mean that I have just given up. I have retired to my room to write, have a glass or 3 of wine and to contemplate things that have recently taken place in my life. I love my room, it's not overly pretty, the floors are old wood and the white paint has rubbed off, the doors are scratched at the bottom a reminder of beloved pets long since passed trying to wake me up to start my day, the walls are an ugly sort of turquoise that Emma picked out when she was about 15. The room I love is not a room that has escaped death, I watched my Mother leave her body here in this place, this room has seen many tears and much laughter over the 10 years that it has been part of my life. My children used to crawl into the bed with my Mom every night and watch Wheel of Fortune and they would guess what color Vanna's dress would be. Then there were nights when I would be downstairs making dinner and I would hear my Mom call them up to watch Golden Girls with her, they all loved Betty White (Rose) and I could hear them laughing. My Mother's voice still echo's through the halls of my mind and I am so happy that I haven't forgotten the sound of it. Before she passed away, she was so worried that we would be afraid to have this room because "someone died in it" so she told us that whomever took this room would be watched after, by her, from wherever it is that she was going. We all have chosen this small room at one point or another since her departure, Emma loved it, she re-decorated it and she was the first to take it after the fact. A few of her early music videos that she posted to youtube were recorded here in front of the black and white wallpaper and turquoise walls. Scott had it for a while as well but I live here now, embraced by the memories and the colors and the life that has been lived in this little square place at the top of my house. I do not share a room with my husband, we really only did that for a couple of years then we realized, love doesn't mean having to lay awake while someone else snored. Our relationship is stable and we can handle not laying in each others dead skin cells night after night. I'm OK if Scott is in the next room it doesn't threaten me that we aren't attached at the hip. I prefer my room to smell like Chanel No. 5 and dogs and Scott's smells a whole lot like beer and smokes and musty old albums, we all have our favorite scents I guess. So as I was saying, well...typing. I am at this "place" and I'm not sure I've been here before, this particular place in my life. For many years I would crumble and take a while to snap back when things went awry. I am not sure how it is that I find myself crumbling yet simultaneously standing and going on with things. I am not sure if it is maturity, and experience or maybe resignation because I am so used to being defeated that it's second nature now...I find that sad, but I also find it the more likely of the 2 possibilities. So do I spring back like a great gymnast who has fallen but is unaffected because she is so certain the fall is behind her, lesson learned, craft perfected...OR do I spring back with such ambivalence that I don't even recognize that I am ambivalent, I just fall because I am crippled and stand back up because it's instinctual, only to take a few steps and fall again because to lay there forever would be admitting defeat? So it's half hearted and without much hope that I stand up to face another walk, another start, another beginning, another craft, another career, another home, another friend, another me...on and on and on and nothing comes to fruition, my tree is planted in sand where no root will ever hold and I just can't admit it to myself because I like me too much to say "It's not going to work" and so I believe over and over that this new person, this new challenge, this new start, this new project, this new God, this new love, this new me will finally root itself firmly and I will have a place to be, to stand strong and confident, secure that I will not fall and then I remember....it's all sand.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-81063811552533287802013-09-15T09:12:00.000-04:002013-09-15T09:12:02.977-04:00You Can't Get OnAs a songwriter, and that's what I consider myself first and foremost, there is always a period of nothingness, where the little spark that turns into a song just doesn't manifest. For a year now I have been "all dried up" I don't know what changed, I never do really but there you have it...woke up with an idea and the song followed and I am so thrilled, I miss writing it's my passion and it's my thing. I hope there is more to come I would LOVE to do a bluesy folky kind of album, it may be one song or It may be the dry spell is over. Either way I decided to post the lyrics before the song is out of the gate...this is "You Can't Get On".<br />
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<span lang=""><strong><span style="color: #134f5c;">Sometimes you need to shut your mouth, to keep your pain from jumping out. Nobody cares, nobody sees what drops your body to it's knees. There's nothing there for them to say we all dry up and blow away. You drew a circle in the air, you danced around the invisible band, you shot the bad guy in the end and all the people clapped their hands. Inside your mind is where it all goes down, the good the bad the fear of clowns, the apple falling from the tree, the ghost of who you meant to be. </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #134f5c;"> (Chorus) And when it's gone it's so far gone, you lost your mind, I lost my song. And when we meet it just feels cold, is that the way it's s'possed to be, or did your demons swollow me? What made you good then made you fall. What made you laugh before you cried? What made you think that you should die? </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #134f5c;">You are forever standing still, when all that moves me moves me deep. Tomorrow's not another day, tomorrow's blend with yesterday's. But yesterday it never comes you keep talking to yourself, about the past that's all burned down, you can't get on you can't get on. You paint your pictures on the wall, nobody told you it was gone, the walls around you all broke down and somehow still you can't get on.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: #134f5c;"> *And When it's gone it's so far gone, you lost your mind, I lost my song. And when we meet it's just so cold, is that the way it's s'possed to be, or did my demon's swollow me? What made you good's what made you fall. What made you laugh then made you cry? And in the end I need to know...what made you think that you should die?</span></strong></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-551202515316759082013-09-11T10:18:00.001-04:002013-09-11T10:33:56.040-04:00The Road Less TraveledAs a firm believer in "right here right now" I am being challenged to look forward and back against my will. The trials of our last few years, this one in particular are blurring my focus on the here and now. Having said that, I embrace the challenge and continue to try and deal with today and stay centered. Because the main point of blogging my journal in the first place was to let my children have access to my life, the life we don't sit and talk about because that would just be boring, I am posting this particular piece so they are inspired to have proper perspective even when the going gets a little tricky. So 2013 has been an odd year, so many things to be grateful for that I don't like to wallow in the negative but it's been hard not to do that lately. My family is cool as hell, talented, brilliant children, who are no longer children in the scheme of things but to me, ya know how that goes Mom's of the world. My husband is a wonderful guy, I have my amazing furry kids whom I adore (always had a great love of dogs). The challenges are all about money, I hate money, root of all evil sort of thing but it's the way the system is set up, not that I have an actual dislike for a literal piece of paper. It's the entire system, how we operate, what we are used to. The Federal Reserve Bank controls the world, and sets it's standards for a certain few, and good for them I hold no animosity towards the people who have plenty and have worked for it. My animosity is for the system that reveres only those people who have enough financially, people who have perfect credit and...teeth and shiny happy children, the Stepford system. It's humbling to know that you have "fallen" that you are one of those people that you used to feel pity for and in my case, try to help but with very little passion and only if it was convenient, I thought I was a giver but I wasn't I just didn't know. I don't want to be helped, I want to be the helper. I hate being in this position and knowing that there are actually days now when we have to go to family or friends to have a nice dinner because we can't afford it. AND IF YOU ARE READING THIS PLEASE DON'T OFFER ANYTHING, I am FINE, we are FINE and money issues ruin friendships, we are managing better than you may think after reading this, I like the challenge it builds character so if you have a comfortable life and lots of money, enjoy it!!!! I did, please don't read this and want to fix it, it's our lesson, our karma whatever and when we hang out, we will talk about life, news, politics, gossip behind our other friends back, I really need that more than anything. I talk about that here, publically, because we are not the only ones and my new focus is to help the people, like us, who have fallen. We are soldiers in a new war, I am bonding with my brothers to fight a system that isn't working anymore. I am only fighting in the corner I have been pushed into, but fighting none the less, recognizing that poor isn't lazy and usually the opposite. I am currently cleaning houses, doing piece work at home and selling Tastefully Simple to make ends meet, 3 jobs, making less than ever. I have learned that love is really what fuels people, you can give a few dollars but what everyone really needs is to know someone cares. One small gesture can change a great many things. It's my opinion that life lessons are to be embraced and learned, challenges overcome and examples set for the next generation. I think this is the most important thing there is to do here on this planet, in this universe, in this experience...learn and grow and love unconditionally. Some days I am not so focused, I cry and stay in bed, play to many video games, eat junk food. The other day I threw my cell phone in an uncharacteristic moment of complete frustration, (I usually just cry) which was the one thing I still had that made me not feel "poor" I loved that damn thing and now it's gone. My friend Marcia gave me her old phone and it allows me to call out and receive calls and I'm grateful but don't get me wrong the former spoiled brat in me is pissed that I am in such a state now that I can't even do all the fun things on my phone that I was so used to doing. No more Netflix, texting is impossible, no more photos in HD. I mourn my phone, but unlike my other things that I mourn this was my fault, I lost my mojo, losing our home and possibly the store, losing our future and our dreams, that was NOT our fault. Scott is the hardest working man I have ever known. In the 19 years we have been together he has missed work maybe twice because he was sick. We took vacations "back in the day" and he left the store in good hands then, back when there were employees. But to actually miss because he was ill...twice in damn near 20 years. He has fought the hard fight to keep that store going, it's his passion, it's the love of his life (well actually our dog Boones is and I'm cool with that). As I write this now, the store has to go, it's no longer paying the bills and we need to re-evaluate our lives, he knows that intellectually but not sure he can ever do it, not sure that he will ever walk out of there and lock it up, not look back, he knows it's the only way but we can only handle what we can handle right? It's been a very hard stretch but not without some fantastic lessons learned. I for one know EXACTLY what I do not need and I now know how incredibly spoiled and selfish I was, I would not have believed it then but I sure as hell do now. I also have learned my strengths, and some good qualities that I didn't even know I had. Scott and I had a very charmed life, great family, wonderful romance, plenty of money to do whatever we wanted, we vacationed twice a year, we had a beautiful home (have for a few more weeks anyway though I wouldn't call it beautiful now it's overrun with damage because upkeep has not been a possibility for years), we basked in the great family we were building, and we still do. The romance is gone, the money is gone, the vacations are really missed but we deal with it. Scott and I are strained but hanging in because we have great respect and love for each other, he is my best friend and it's very hard to watch him lose what he worked so hard to build. We ate at RUSSO'S at least once a week and GOD I MISS RUSSO'S, probably the hardest part of losing everything is losing our weekly Russo's nights (OK leave it to me to miss the food part). Scott and I were regulars, we just signed for our meals and paid the bill in trade to Dave (Russo) because he shopped the store all the time. Eventually as music became an internet thing and less of an own and collect thing, the trade deal was off and that was that, we would still go for a while but now we are lucky to have family night at Subway. The strange thing about all this, and my fellow poverty warriors will get this, mainly the people who have had it and lost it, is that it's no big deal, to me it's like...OK I can't go to the mall on a perfume adventure (which used to be my favorite thing to do go and smell everything and pick my new favorite). I can stay home and paint terrible portraits and scrapbook with actual scraps not cute things purchased in a store, I can clean and rearrange the house, which I love, I can play my guitar and throw the stick with my dogs. I can't buy the kids things for no reason anymore, I can't just go to the grocery and get what I want without pricing every damn thing (I don't like that part much) but I can still cook, read, have beautiful evenings with friends and all the things that REALLY matter and it took this "experience" this "journey" for me to put that into perspective and for that I am eternally grateful. I can never see me ever being materialistic again, that is gone and what a burden lifted! Remember this (spawn of mine) the stuff is dangerous, it clouds your mind and your heart, stuff is just meaningless garbage that takes over and keeps you from seeing the beautiful side of a simple life it keeps you in a state of "defense" always worried that you will lose your stuff, someone will steal your stuff, and it's a horrible thing. I lived like that, I was afraid of someday not having the means to shop and vacation and when that actually happened, it was a blessing in disguise. So chin up! Bright lights everywhere (unless they are multi colored then go to the doctor it could be a stroke). I have nothing to give anyone anymore that isn't my love, time and energy, I can't just hand my friends cash and presents and you know what, my gifts of love are the best I can give because they come from a place of honesty. You know how I always say I would rather you guys make me something than buy me something, that's so true, and now that I can only give things that don't cost money I feel like it's more "real" and my friends are getting something I really care to give, not a candle or a set of dishes or a sweater from Old Navy. I can make soaps, breads, candies and bad art. So here we are today, the once "well off enough" family haven fallen to poverty level, even though we are now working harder than ever, we are flat broke in a material sense but (speaking only for myself) far richer than ever in a spiritual sense. I didn't even know I wasn't seeing the world correctly, I thought it was fine to have more than you needed, fine to give the guy on the corner a couple of dollars when you could afford 20. I thought it was just fine to be who I was but it wasn't, it took a complete collapse of my way of living for me to see that. I now give the guy on the corner whatever I have in cash, which isn't much, ever, but it's not just a token to ease my guilt for having more than he does, I give what I have because we are now floating in the same boat and I want my warrior brother to have less strife because I know that kind of strife and it's heavy. So I am not sure how to handle the loss of the house, I am taking it one day at a time. I grew up (as I have discussed whilst blogging before) with an unstable Father, we moved over 30 times before I was 12 and my fear was always that I would have to relive it, that my now stable and grown up life would turn into that again, I have nightmares about losing my house, I always have. Now that it's happening, I'm not sure what to do to stay in the present without reliving a life that has long since passed me by. I am in counseling again, and I'm not embarrassed by that, it's the "free" counseling but I have found there are great resources for people who have fallen off the happy wagon for a minute and I'm glad to utilize them. I just want the tools to handle it without slipping into a cycle of dwelling on my upbringing, so counseling for me is the greatest gift I can give you guys, as my family so that I can keep a stiff upper lip and show you by example that all you have is the present, there is nothing else worth dealing with. By keeping me whole and focused, I hope to keep you guys whole and focused, because it's just "stuff" and it shouldn't be this big of a deal. I have joked (half joked) about putting a tipi (yes that's how you spell it) out on Mark's property, just having the dogs, some books, a garden and the stars, that may just come to pass and I'm telling Mark right here...clear me a spot on the back nine, guess I will know soon enough if he reads my blog :)<br />
That sounds lovely to me, after all the adventure, the money wasted that could have helped someone, all the fullness and the temporary high of a materialistic life, I just want it all to be simple, honest and real, authentic. I hope that you get what you want, really, I just hope you have learned that what you want dims the light on what you need, and that what makes you happy is not what necessarily fulfills you. Give your love and time to people who need it, paint lovely pictures even if you suck at it, sing songs, look at the stars, have a fire going that you can have a nice glass of wine by, OK a cheap ass glass of wine by, hug your siblings, your parents, pick the far away parking spot so someone who needs it can park closer, spend Thanksgiving feeding the people in shelters, make Christmas presents, don't buy them, take long walks and sit quietly in the woods and watch the deer, sleep under the stars when the mosquito's are gone for the season, believe in God, believe in life everywhere not just here, and most importantly believe in yourself...I do, and that has made all the difference. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-32641462096129336312013-05-28T12:11:00.001-04:002013-05-28T12:14:09.580-04:00Past Presents Future PresentsSo it's May of 2013 and Cory's 26th birthday has passed and Emma's 19th is upon us in a few days. May is our busy month I am glad Marisa picked February. I know that it's such a common dialogue, especially for parents but I can't even comprehend how fast the time has gone. My maternal Grandmother used to talk about it a lot and I was never the Grandchild that ignored her stories so I would listen to her but I couldn't understand it from my perspective then, pre-Mom years. Now that I completely get it, I can't tell her how right she was but she certainly was. I think our concept of time is just that, a concept, something that was a good idea but maybe didn't come fully to fruition. It's great to have a reference, days, weeks, months, years, a way to understand what needs done and when it needs done, a way to keep track of all things coming and going but it's certainly flawed in the large scheme of things. I think it would be fixed somehow, it wouldn't ebb and flow like it does (now pardon my physics this is just me thinking way to far into the matter and let's not even start talking about matter) it would be more constant and uniform. If I were floating in the universe as a single being with no "life on earth" experience I believe I would have no concept of time it would probably only be a sensation of now. I would be in the center of it, the looking back would be the same "length" as the looking forward, equal time past and future with no concept of them being different at all, they would be the same and I would just be in the center of it. BUT! I am a single being having a "life on earth" experience and relying on the time/space laws as I have learned them so I find myself looking back and finding the whole thing happened in a fraction of the time that my looking forward self is experiencing. SEE? The future still seems longish, like there is plenty of time to get to this and get to that, not rushed, even at my age. HOWEVER the past seems like it's actually trying to catch up to where I am in the current scheme of things. So I see my children and I remember going to parks, playing on swings, learning to ride bikes, watching Barney, then high school dances, first dates, first jobs, moving away and all of that kind of just happened recently in my perception. Then I think about them marrying someday, having families of there own, working at a career they have planned for, college, whatever and it seems way off but I know that in an instant it will be behind me but I can't conceive of that until it's past, then I will realize how lightning fast it actually was. SO TIME.......I don't get it, I think it's a flawed system and with that I realize I am rambling and off topic (somewhat) so here is what got my mind in a tizzy about time...<br />
My children are grown, I need to face and accept that, embrace the new stuff without mourning the old stuff so how do we do that? As Mother's how do we just step back into the life we had before we were one hundred and fifty percent, hands on care takers? It's an odd sensation because all of the sudden you realize your OWN life and your OWN needs can be addressed again but you don't remember how to do it. Sometimes it is so great, I used to cry because I was so overwhelmed with things I was happy just to have a bath and I didn't care that they banged at the door to get in I was so glad just to have a few minutes to relax and not move my physical self from one spot to another. I remember Emma and Marisa would actually get books and sit on towels in the bathroom floor because they wanted to be where I was. If I locked the door they would sit outside the door and whine to get in so I just set them up beside me and they were so excited they thought it was fun and I knew they were OK because I was still supervising but our bathroom was like a big playpen and I could unwind without worrying, and of course we would sing and that was just so cute. The other night I decided to take a bath, I got a nice glass of wine, lit some candles and while I was laying there I remembered that and I was so overwhelmed with everything I was so happy that I could have a glass of wine and enjoy the feeling and not worry that someone would get out of bed in the night or get sick in the night and I would have to be in Mom mode in a second (I never drank when my children were young in case something would go amiss in the middle of the night and I would have to drive or whatever) so it was really nice knowing that was OK now but then I started sobbing because put in a different light, that just meant no one needed me now and I felt so lonely it was overwhelming. I am not sure why all of my life's positives came with a negative attached, it has always been that way and I am sure a lot of my quirks and ticks are a result of it all but therapy is a bullshit concept to me so I may never know and most of the time I don't care it is what it is. I see so many people who's children leave the nest and they are out and doing things, filling time with long awaited dreams to conquer, embracing every second with new adventures and I want to be that person. MONEY, money is an issue most definitely. We were hit with the PLAN B scenario in 2009, unfortunately we didn't have a PLAN B. That year our business began to fail (but not entirely because my husband refused to let that go so he's still hanging on and good for him) at one point it was costing us money to keep that store open but it was Scott's life's work and you don't take that lightly. We lost our cars, our house was on the chopping block for 2 years, kids college money gone, vacations we used to take 2 times a year, gone, the only thing we could do was try to keep chins up and food in the cupboards and we did both of those things, not always and not always to this day and it's 2013 but things are getting better, we just found out we are able to keep our house but it's not going to be easy that's for damn sure, but we are doing it. If I had not experienced losing my financial security I would not be the person I am today, it was a blessing looking back because I am more humble, I understand people that I once did not understand, I am thankful for things I should have been WAY more thankful for but took for granted. So it's not all bad but my ability to do the things that I had planned to do once my children were grown has been completely obliterated. Scott and I were going to travel, we thought about a houseboat in the Carolina's for a summer home, we talked about fine dining with couple friends that we would most certainly make once we could get out and meet more people, we had dreams and goals and we did not see the crash coming but it's not as bad as it sounds, we just kind of got through it a bit at a time, so a negative with a positive attached this time. Our marriage was really rocky for a while and I don't talk about that often but if I'm going to be honest to a fault in this blog I have to mention that. Scott become sole proprietor, he works 7 days a week then comes home and watches television and goes to sleep which is all he has had the energy for and I understand that. He drinks way to much and I don't blame him, his life is all about work, keeping the store going and not about the nice casino's and nice vacations with his wife that were planned at this stage of the game, he was so financially set we had no worries...until we did and that is hard for a man, they are so "provider" minded and I know Scott took it as his failure and he never quite saw that it was circumstance and not anything he did, we certainly understood that and would never blame any of it on him personally, this family LOVES THAT MAN and respects him so much and he earned every bit of the love and respect he has gotten from us, he is a great father though admittedly not a great husband (but he's mine) because he is married to his store and I have long since gotten over coming in 2nd (well 3rd if you count his dog Boones and she really is way cooler than me so fair is fair). I have wanted to medicate too, just to find that one thing that didn't make you feel shitty all the time. Scott picked beer and I picked cooking everything for everybody all the time and then eating to much of it. It's fun and we all need something right? Somehow we managed to make some couple friends, we don't need a babysitter anymore and that's another "time" thing, I remember Scott saying "it's ok because before you know it they will be old enough to stay home alone for a while and we can sneak out for a little bit and they will be fine", it felt like forever away and now it's past and I am still reeling from the fact that I can go wherever I want and no one needs to come stay at my house for a couple of hours. I didn't do babysitters I was to over protective, it was my Mom or Sister or Scott's Sister or our niece and that was it. I still worry like that but everyone just laughs at me. Emma was visiting last night with her boyfriend and when she left I said "make sure you wear your seatbelt" and everyone thought I was ridiculous, I am but for good reason I live in the middle of nowhere and there are deer everywhere so good advice right?? Never to old for good advice. So these days Scott and I still don't see a lot of each other but we have grown accustomed to it all, we have very separate lives so we really appreciate our time together. We have made great friends in Tom and Marcia Kelly the past few years, we do a lot of fun things together and Scott and Tom are hilarious, they make us laugh all the time. We are now able to hang out with Scott's Sister Janelle and her husband Bob (Sponge Bob to my girls who have called him that since they could speak and Cory even calls him Sponge to this day). Scott's Mother and her husband are close to 90 now, June (Scott's Mom) has a wicked case of dementia and Bob and Janelle have moved them in to care for them and they can't get away a lot so we go there, sit on there beautiful front porch in lovely Akron Ohio, smoke cigarettes (Scott doesn't inhale) and drink wine, eat to much and talk about life and I am so grateful for porch nights. Our kids meet us there a lot, usually stop by on the way to somewhere else but they love porch nights too. Janelle's son Ryan usually comes on Sunday's when he's not being a rock star (he's the lead guitarist of Red Sun Rising) and somehow we always end up talking about when they were all little, how Ryan teased Cory to no end and how Cory tried to stab Ryan when he was 9 (ahhh memories). So the 6 of us have become our own little group of old people friends, I always wanted that because my parents had that and it looked so fun. I remember poker parties with my Mom's cousins and their husbands. So life is taking on a whole new vibe about now and I am not sure what to do with it, I am "Happy and Sad Together" to quote The Innocence Mission. It is very nice having Cory back home, I know it's just for a bit but I love it. Emma is out of the house, Marisa is moving to Vermont in a matter of weeks now actually and that doesn't compute yet. So that positive with a negative thing can be looked at many different ways, lucky to have positive AT ALL, negative keeps you humble, balance is the key, all positive would make you write stupid songs anyway right? So off they all go, and I spend many hours alone at home now, but HEY...I have a home to spend those hours in and I am forever grateful, I love my house with it's leaky roof and ugly basement but I LOVE IT. I may not have loved the city of Hudson for a while, being an Akron gal but I actually have fallen back in love with it, just like my husband, it's where I belong. The people hurt me here, not all of them, not most of them but some of them. We were talked about, especially my daughter, by people who don't know us, wouldn't understand us if they did so water, bridge, who cares. But I have many friends here, and I am grateful that I can drive 5 min and have coffee in my pj's on my friends porch if I want to, meet for lunch at Aladdins, walk downtown with my dogs and I feel at home again. I have re-embraced my old friends too, whom I have missed and whom I misunderstood and was misunderstood by. So here I am 53, kids grown, money scarce, still working my butt off for chump change as they say, still singing because I don't know how not to, still socially smoking though every single day I quit, still eating Ben and Jerry's at midnight when someone hurts my feelings, still laying in bed watching re-runs of Downton Abbey, Merlin and Sherlock with my dogs, bleaching my kitchen, burning to many candles, and cooking to much food in the home where I raised children, took care of my dying Mother (at the same time) who eventually left the world through one of my upstairs bedrooms, and it's all fine and as it should be. I am so thankful for lessons learned, experiences had, friends made and while I can't jet off to Scotland as planned I can sit in my backyard surrounded by nothing but trees and animals and friends and family when they stop by, and they always do. I may not be driving a new car with heated seats and On Star with DVDS for the kids but it's OK (I LOVED THAT DAMN VAN) I can still drive and while it's a borrowed van from Scott's Sister with over 200,000 miles, it works and it has a radio and though I would not have believed it 4 years ago, it suits me just fine these days. So some of the things I have always wanted to do I am doing, and some of the things I always thought I would do, I am not and so what really. I have taken to antiquing and thrift storing and I have gone from Office Manager of a Theater and Professional Musician (which is my hobby now not my livelihood) to cleaning lady and piece worker so if you put it in Downton Abbey terms, I have moved from upstairs to down and I have found that downstairs is WAY more fun.....until next time when I talk about getting my DNA ancestry chart and finding out I am not related to the man I knew as my Father........TraceyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-56489316833858780632013-02-01T12:24:00.001-05:002013-02-01T12:24:08.522-05:00Fear and Loathing in Las AkronHOW MUCH EASIER, would life be if we instinctively knew what people thought about us? Sometimes I think it would be brutal, other times I think it would be an incredible super power. I spend so much (way to much) time worrying about the way I impress upon people. I am always checking myself so I don't offend, defend, insult, annoy, etc. I am always going to assume that I am bugging you, it's how I am wired and if you don't hit the like button on something I say on facebook I am probably going to feel like I suck (and it is hard to admit to that kind of weakness). All of that inner drama would be wiped away if instantly when I struck up a conversation with someone a little red light went off over their heads telling me they were not enjoying me in their space). If the light were green, I would know we were "bonding". SURE the red lights would make me feel really badly, I am so overly sensitive anyway it's not a new sensation, but the red lights would keep me from wasting time blabbing to someone who did not give a shit about anything I had to say. <br />
I am always thinking my personality is odd, I do not have a cohesive flow of thoughts, I have random misfires routinely and I spend way to much time worrying about the fallout from my, well..mouth. I have a couple of traits that are faults and perks all rolled into one. I can be friendly and outgoing, I just assume everyone wants to talk to random strangers. I talk to people in lines at stores, on the street, in social situations, just assuming they want to chat or say hello. I am not unlike a puppy, I am in fact, a middle aged human female puppy. Some people enjoy the random strange person addressing them (sniffing them if you will) and some people just think I'm a freak and then I get my feelings hurt and the inner dialogue starts "WHY am I such a loser"? "WHY do I just talk to people like that"? "I should keep my eyes down and get to my destination without addressing anyone about anything, who cares if her dress is pretty or her hair is nice or if you buy the same coffee, COOL"! Not everyone wants to pet me and a lot of people are allergic to me but I can't help it, I like the people sometimes and I just want to be social, then I hate myself when they act like I am a douche bag. There are times when I am over familiar and I don't even know it until I have done it. I am THE WORST on facebook, I realize it but I keep doing it (truest form of insanity) the only way I believe, is to just delete my account but I can't because I love talking to the people I haven't seen in decades and I love keeping up with the people who have moved away that I still care about very much. My fault is I read all the posts on my home page and then I comment on them because I find them interesting and then I worry that everyone out there is thinking "why is this woman commenting on my wall all the time"? I comment on my own posts, I like my own stuff and I second guess every status worrying that someone will think I am an idiot...but I still do it because I also think it's all in my head and no one else is thinking that at all, then I think I'm wrong because of course they can see that I am a dweeb and then I think, I am over thinking it. Cycle complete until it starts again. I have some very very cool aquaintances, I know some interesting, lovely people. I sometimes feel like if I reach out to talk to them, they will think I am trying to get into their inner circle like a limelight leach so I keep my distance and then I feel sad that there are people out there that I really like and would love to "do lunch" with but I can't because I am not cool enough or wise enough to be in their space. I once thought I was on the same level as everyone, we were all equal and everyone was welcome to bond with everyone else. For some reason, as I have grown older I have felt a fall from grace on so many levels that I assume no one wants to entertain my company, it's really sad and completely pitiful that I cannot step out of this mindset and give myself a break. I am not sure what happened to make me feel like I should stay in the house and read, cook and clean so as not to bother anyone really, I have a few ideas but none of them really warrant how I actually feel about people not liking me. I think my initial problem started with my weight gain after the girls were born and then our financial crash which put me in a self induced, new social bracket which I call, to poor for the superficial to associate with. The devestating part about being someone who was once succesful, young and vibrant, is that it's not a forever potion, the magic wears off and it's shelf life is quite brief and someone should have put the warning label on, and the side effects should have been weighed, some of the long term effects of believing anything lasts forever include: inflated ego disease, sever withdrawl symptoms (taper off), over confidence, failure to recognize anything that doesn't put you in the center of the known universe.<br />
So the magic lasts until approx. the age of 40 (at least for me anyway) and then it begins to fade, you can feel it but it's so slow and sure that it's not overly recognizeable as the end of your self worth, self esteem and confidence. The physical downfall is interesting to experience, the body plumps up, the face loosens, the hair thins, the teeth dull, and then at the age of 45 you realize what is going on not only physicaly but mentally you realize you can't use the same personality you have always used because you are to old for it now, you have to rethink who you are or you will be stuck with a set of personality traits that have been instilled for years and years that you can no longer "work". This is not pretty when this happens, ex: the 50 woman in the fishnets and miniskirt with the stillettos at the bar hitting on 25 year old men (OK I DON'T DO THAT ANYMORE). I have to say it is weird, trying to figure out why the police officer that pulled you over doesn't think your awesome so you still get the ticket, why the boy at Swensons calls you ma'am, why construction workers don't realize you are walking past them, why no one wants to hire you, why the clothes you like are no longer suitable but you hate Talbots, why you try to join a conversation with your younger friends but you keep getting interupted while they chat amongst themselves, why your spouse comes home and falls asleep in the chair while you chat about your day, why your kids don't want to go to the movie with you anymore they have to protect their street cred. WOW, who knew being a middle aged woman was so lonely?! OF COURSE I am now worried about annoying people or being "not cool enough" it's the new software's fault! The old software that made you love your computer, has been updated and you can't figure the shit out now, you liked the old version DAMN IT! Everyone is always changing things just when you get the hang of it. I hate that I have always worried about how my little insignificant person will be percieved. I see myself as a friendly, compassionate, extrovert when I'm in the mood. Introvert when I'm not (I have been known to retreat for a time from all association that is not my family).It's a weird dynamic because I hate being NOT noticed and I hate being noticed just as much. I actually didn't like the taste of success that I experienced, I didn't even like it a little bit. I am NOT someone who wants to be judged, assessed and critiqued and it was not good for my self esteem or well being, I am not strong enough stock for that and it takes a really strong, confident, relaxed person to have all that going on and I am NOT any of those things and yet, I still hate it when I am not noticed, there is no winning here. I love playing clubs in Akron, seeing the same people come out, getting to know them, it's lovely I feel really lucky to have the audience I have, there are some wonderful people here that share my love of music and art and I would rather play for 50 people and write my own rulebook than thousands with no say in my life, which is how it was back in the day when record labels were the means to an end. I believe it's very different now and that's a wonderful thing, you don't have to sell your soul. With a daughter that's an up and coming singer/songwriter I am thrilled that she can be spared the sign on the dotted line experience and still be a creative source. I went for a nice evening out recently with a group of friends, aquaintences that I haven't seen in a while. At the table were 3 published authors of renown, whom I have known for years, we got together for drinks and I just felt so out of place the whole night because I never made my mark on that level. I remember talking and saying, yes I still play but most of my time is spent home, raising a family. They all thought it was great, I thought I was boring even though I LOVE that part of my life, I was just uneasy the whole night even though I am SO happy for their success and loved hearing of their adventures, book tours, people they have met and interviewed etc. I have shared the table over drinks with rock stars, writers, poets, actors, directors and I have shared the table over drinks with bus drivers, construction workers, doctors, lawyers, chefs and line cooks, bartenders and bar owners, I have had such a rich social experience, I love getting to know everyone and I am interested in everything they have experienced. I sometimes just want to talk to older people about what defined their lives, I so enjoyed my Grandmother's stories and my lovely Mother in Law is 87 and full of memories of the past (not so much yesterday mind you but decades ago). I love hearing about peoples lives, it means the world to me to just sit over wine or coffee and hear what you (all of you actually) are about. I guess if that makes the red light go off, so be it because it's worth the risk to me. If I annoy you, I apologize I never mean to be overly anything it just happens. I am curious about people, I love a good chat even if it's with myself, for example, this blog. I guess I feel thusly, if you don't put yourself out there for people to evaluate, you stay home, and that's just no fun at all sometimes. As I sit here, I am worried that this post will make me seem pathetic and that you all will expect me to be a bumbling bag of nerves and insecurity if we meet and/or hang out. The truth is that no one ever knows this about me, people don't see that I am a self doubting Thomas (get it)? I have the role of confident woman down to a science, I should win the award for best actress really, I am THAT good at faking it. SO...let's do lunch.<br />
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.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-81437719949043565832013-01-01T19:43:00.002-05:002013-01-01T20:13:42.477-05:00All Is Quiet......On New Years DayIt's New Years day 2013, it appears we were not smyted on 12, 21, 12 after all. I have decided to write this because I have not done it yet....this particular thing. As you all know (all 8 of you) I write this for my children to someday get to know me, of course they do not, will not know me until they read because I can't hold their attention verbally for more than a minute. I am going to admit that while writing this post I have probably indulged in to much red wine whilst celebrating the holiday, ringing in another year (oh goodie). To those of you who read this before I inevitably delete it while I am sober, forgive my indulgence but I am most assuredly past the legal writing limit and so be it. I will now write about ME...to my lovely children, this is the story of the person behind the Mother, I am not just some dumb, middle aged, emotional piece of person that gets on your last nerve on a daily basis. SUPRISE! I am just another person on the planet, trying to figure out how I got here and why, I am full of questions (and answers actually). I was once your age, I once had dreams, I once sought love and laughter and fun with wild abandon. Isn't it odd to think that the very thoughts you have, I once shared. I was never comfortable thinking about the fact that my Mother was anything other than my Mother, ever, but when all was said and done we were very much alike, my lovely Mum and me. It's far easier to think of her as a young vibrant woman, now that I am older I get it completely and so will you...someday you will understand that just because I am someone's "Mother" does not mean that I am not a woman, who was once a girl, who was once, not stupid. So here it goes, here is a list of things that make me...me. I am directing this not only to my girls but with regard to my only son as well, even though you are not a woman (most of the time) you are my spawn and you may relate to some of these things that you have been given, like it or not, by me and mine...your Thomas side. I love you guys, I hope I have earned your love and respect dispite my mistakes (we all make them). You know me as "this person" however, I do not know me as you know me, I am very different on the inside than on the outside and here I will tell you about the inside of me......what I want, truly want, what I have settled for and what I left behind...<br />
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I wanted to sing, that's the strongest feeling, emotion in my arsenal. I wanted to sing from the time I can remember being. I loved the feeling of it, the power of it and it never mattered at first if anyone heard me or not, I just did it. I would LOVE to say that my first longing was to be a Mom.......SORRY, it was not. I used to say (I was around 18ish) that if I ever had children I would lock them in the closet. My best friend Andrea and I declared very early on that Motherhood was not for us. I hear you guys say that now and my first reaction is.....HA! I know it's not the reality of it, eventually you will have room in your space for a family and you will love it. You were all raised with a strong sense of that. Next on the list of things that moved me, drove me...I wanted a home, a really nice home of my own. My father was wicked, he drank daily and got fired and we got evicted and it was repeated over and over. Before the age of 12 I moved at least every few months and I dreamt that I would have a lovely, little, home with all the cozy fluffy things to be had. I am not a big house person, I longed for and still do, a cottage style home with history, wooden floors and rugs and pillows and a fireplace with a lovely garden. I must admit in my heart of hearts, I am Bilbo Baggins minus the adventure (I did indeed see The Hobbit for the 2nd time this very day). I should never, ever have been born in this place or this time period. If there is a God, and you need to know I truly believe there is, he placed me wrongly. I should have been born in England in approx. 1812, London proper or a little cottage outside of either way I love the city and the country, I hate the burbs. I would have been perfectly at home in a flat in the city as long as it was comfortable, clean and cozy, I may have had to skip my garden but it's all ok. I truly feel like a displaced person, I have always, will always pine for a foreign country in a time period that has long since passed. I am not sure if I believe in reincarnation, but something inside me feels literally homesick for a place I have never been, in a time I never knew. My clothing preference, everything that means anything to me reveals this odd little twist in the time space continuum. I was not, am not, cut out for this space in time, I am not cut out for the lifestyle in this country though I have come to accept it, even if I don't champion it. I don't scoff at technology, I am on facebook as much as anyone else. HOWEVER, the things that matter to me, the things that make me feel connected, happy etc. have nothing to do with anything most people want out of their life experience. I don't need ridiculous amounts of money, jewels, cars, long expensive resort vacations etc. I aim no higher than this...a lovely home where I can cook and clean and tend to the things that are more traditionally female in nature, I think everyone should do what trips their trigger, I am very liberal but for me, I love traditional roles. I love to put together the homestead, knowing that my family can come and go as life presents itself, always a room and food for you my spawn. I love caring for people and animals, I like gardening and nurturing and nesting. I am obsessed with books and blankets, I'm sure you know that by now. While a lot of people spend money on cars boats and clothing, I like blankets and books and candles. To live in a home with soft rugs, blankets, thick curtains, candles and books is perfect. I don't need fancy artwork, I don't need matching "sets" of things (furniture). I like pieces with personality, history and comfort. I like people to come in and feel safe and comfortable, I love people in and out all day, friends and family. I love a huge table where everyone can sit and if the chairs don't match even better. I want dogs and a cat, a single cat is usually quite fine, 2 dogs of course. I love it when everyone comes in and sings and plays music together. We are one lucky family to be able to play and sing like we do, what a blessing to make your own music and use your own voices to fill the space. When my family sings the harmonies are infectious, it's a lovely thing and no one knows it but us, it's "our" thing. Scott usually listens.......HA! He does do a mean Ziggy Stardust at Karaoke however, but he leaves the sing alongs to Cory Emma Marisa and me. One Christmas we all sang Mountain Goats songs and it was so fun...we all love them. I love to cook, I hope I have passed that down to you guys. I truly love to be the one to "feed the people" who visit my home. I like working with fresh vegetables, pasta and wine, I am a casserole junkie, love to mix a bunch of stuff up in a bowl and bake it. Normally you won't find instant foods in my pantry, sometimes you guys want the sponge bob mac and cheese instead which I will never understand. Cooking your own meals in your own home is such a great thing for the soul. I have spent WAY to much money on to go food and if I could re-do anything that may be it. I don't always have my day figured out so that 3 homecooked meals make the table, I know this, but I am saying when I can do that, I love it. Nothing quite like music to set a mood, whatever mood you need to be in or indulge, the right music can facilitate the process. 90 percent of the time I listen to classical, jazz or standards. Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra, Miles Davis, happy for hours. I LOVE The Black Keys, Adele. I love it when people can really sing, really sing and I don't mean vocal tricks, runs or theatrics just pure from the heart, singing. There has to be some emotion behind the voice or it's dull for me. Tom Waits...LOVE. OK, while I am a loner by nature, I do enjoy a nice dinner with friends followed by a lovely glass of wine and interesting conversation, some light music. I LOVE a good storm, snow or thunder either way. I do not like the tropics, I do not like the heat of summer, I like and appreciate nice days with a bit of sun but I am a very big fan of wind, unlike one of my idols Dusty Springfield who was scared of the wind, I love it, rain, blizzards and extremes in nature. I am a lover of dogs and would prefer the company of my dogs most of the time to the company of people (not my family and friends of course). I am NOT what could be considered a people person, I am much the loner even though I do enjoy when people come over for holidays and gatherings. I love it when the kids (well you are not kids anymore) have friends stop by. I am not a fan of idle and fake chatter with people on the street, in the pub or at the store (time traveler). I try to be nice to everyone I come across because it's very important to be good and to make people feel appreciated, however, I would be lying if I did not say that I prefer a night at home with a good book and a cup of tea and a fire. I find that as I get older, I retreat more into my thoughts and my creature comforts. I LOVE books, to say I am a fanatic would be stupid but I love books, I don't care at all about a kindle, I like the feel the smell and the vision of a book, shelves of books displaying your journey, in your home, showing you, reminding you what you have "taken in" over the years...it's a must. Keep your collection of Carlos Santana and Jessica Simpson shoes, I just want my books and a great pair of crocs. I don't understand why I love rugs, but I LOVE rugs, I spend a lot of money on rugs. I hate carpet, I like banged up interesting wood floors with throw rugs. I do not dress my dogs, I do not buy clothing for them but I like comfy dog beds and cute collars. I like GREAT coffee, I do not like to buy it ground, I like to buy whole bean coffee and grind it fresh in the morning. I do not love television but I do have shows I like that I watch after the fact on Netflix most of the time. My television does not go on until the evening, daytime television is ridiculous. I like the news but not FOX, I don't watch FOX and neither should you. I adore chocolate, I once had my own coffee shop/bakery and we made candy as well, my mother and my sister and I made candy every year for Christmas, I love Christmas too. I am Christian but I am NOT one of "those" I am not born again whatever the hell that means, probably should be taken literally with a nod to reincarnation. I believe in a guy that was beyond what we could comprehend, I think he came, he went, he came back and he had a lot to say and teach us that the Christian religion has screwed up so badly that no one gives a shit anymore....very sad, I think that he was probably really cool. I have read the bible, I have read A LOT! I believe he says some things.....noteable things but people have screwed it all up. I also love anything supernatural, ghosts, aliens, fascinating stuff, I believe in everything, that's part of my problem. I am plagued by fear, I have horrible panic attacks and I am a hypochondriac, you know that my kids........sorry to pass that on but it can't all be fairies and roses, sometimes it's guns and roses. I love movies, I see everything, I love to go by myself for some reason. I love theater, the greatest job I ever had was working at Young Actor's in Hudson, I loved the kids, the plays, the excitement, it truly is magical. I am completely insecure, I have never felt confident in my own skin. It's so weird that people will come up and say, HEY you are so laid back and together. It's especially funny when they think I come off as confident on stage, I am SO NOT. I am always a bit nervous, I second guess myself, I worry about my appearance (even when I had one I thought it was ugly). I have huge issues there, the good news is, it gets easier with age, everything just kind of mellows and you learn to appreciate who you are and what you have become.<br />
I love to mow the lawn....RIDICULOUS! I can't help it, I will sit on that tractor for hours, making sure all the strips are even. I love a good bath, with a book and a glass of wine, Bigelow mint body wash from Bath and Body Works is a must. I still like cook books even though every recipe can be found online, who cares...I like a real cookbook. I can't even tell you how magical the sound of a train in the night is to me. There is something so cosmic about a train, for whatever reason, at night. I think of the people for generations who have gone to exotic places, or escaped persecution or run away by hopping a train to somewhere, it's cosmic. I love trees, they are the most mystical thing on the planet, a tree is one of the most amazing things, life, death, rebirth, flowing with the wind, placing roots....a tree is quite a thing. I also love my friends, I have not had a lot of friends in my life, given my tendency toward hobbitism. HOWEVER, I have had some great people come and go and fortunately for me, many of them are still here. Andrea Beckett, my first best friend, we shared everything in our high school/middle school days and I still have her in my contacts! Mark Jendrisak, I adore him, we have been in bands together since we were babies and have seen each other through many ups and downs. There are so many wonderful people I have known and would like to get to know better. Elyse Romano, we have drifted but you are like a sister to me, Marcia Kelly you sure crept up into my life and I am very glad for it. I love my sister Sonny, Janie, my sister in law Janelle and the most unlikely bff in the world for a woman of 53, battle scarred and crazy...Ryan Humbert. There are a few people out there I feel a connection to and would love to spend some time getting to know better. CHUCK A! I think you are a hoot and you have a heart of gold, you and Mary should have a night out with my lovely Scott and myself. Connie W. I enjoy my time with you, wish we could hang out more. Cyndi O...always love spending time with you. So, loner or not, there are friends and people whom I would love to get to know. I LOVE TRAVELING! I don't need to go a lot, I get homesick. I don't need a "vacation" per say, I like just heading out to someplace historic or interesting and walking around. I KNOW, I have done casino's and beaches and resorts but those were not really my pick. I love historic towns, I like walking and reading the dumb plaques OK?! I admit it. Savannah GA......fantastic. I would like to go on a ghost hunt, do a ghost walk, or something like that, I admit it again. I like seance's and things that go bump in the night. I do not like anything demonic in nature, WAY to scary, I have never seen, nor will I ever see The Exorcist. I love Harry Potter, I admit to reading the Twilight books and loving them, my favorite series is probably the Outlander books. I do like cool shoes, but I am a fan of ugly shoes, crocs, doc martins, that sort of thing. I love to paint, I do paint and I fancy painting furniture in wild patterns and colors. I am not crafty but artsy. I love redecorating and rearranging things...I do it to much really. I like to sit on my deck in the late spring early summer, late summer early autumn and listen to the sounds of the woods where we live, I like mornings on the deck with coffee and evenings on the deck with wine. I like my husband, Scott...he swept me off my feet with his delightful personality and Nick Nolte looks, we have had a bit of a rough patch but we are forever partners when all is said and done, he's my guy and he may drive me bat shit crazy sometimes but I love him. I can't resist drives to see either leaves in the fall or lights in the Christmas season, I am a sucker for early dinners just like the old people who move to Florida but I hate Florida. I love twinkle lights, any kind of sparkly light fascinates me and I like them, tacky or not. I have strands of green twinkle lights in my room at all times. I like seperate rooms, I love my husband but I like my sheets to smell like Chanel no. 5 and men kill that. I shower before bed, Scott showers in the morning so he goes to bed with the day all over him, I wash the day off and crawl into my space, alone, with Chanel and a good book. Brad Pitt killed the image I had of my lifelong favorite fragrance Chanel No. 5, with his new, dumb ass commercial, but I can't help it, it's my forever favorite. Our financial problems have become so cumbersome that I hadn't had my perfume in a while so my fantastic, loving, friend Janie Lindsay bought me a HUGE bottle of C5 just because, now everything smells as it should, my sheets, and my...self. My friend Marcia gives me gifts all the time just because...it's really cool the people who care about me, I am blessed all over the place. Sometimes there is nothing better than just...Hershey's kisses. My dog Luna (Boones) and I...we have that in common, she loves them like I do. NO milk chocolate is not bad for dogs, dark chocolate is bad for dogs so don't go there, YES I give her Hershey's kisses and she loves me. Marcia got Boones Hershey's kisses for Christmas, I love my friends. OK KIDS...PEOPLE, that's it, things I love, my displaced life (I should be living in Dickens era London) and my friends, and my favorites, it's like a long boring interview. Before I quit, here's what I hate...people who are judgemental and prejiduced, I believe in accepting everyone as they are, I love that we live in a world where there are different, textures, colors, beliefs. I hate mean people, I hate war or thinking about war, it's very senseless. I hate retail jobs, cooked carrots, pop music and bad crossover country music. I hate the extreme heat and extreme cold, I do not like fake teeth that are so white and big it's all you can focus on, I do not like that fat people feel bad about themselves, I do not like that people feel ugly when they are probably beautiful. I love planet earth but I hate what we are doing to it. I hate that our financial lives hit the skids and we are now struggling, but strangely enough, I love the lesson it has taught and the new sensibility I have because of it. So as I close I will tell you what I said I would from the start of this entry...what I truly want, love comfort and stability. What I have settled for, the familiar, what I left behind, the dreams of my youth...no regrets. To all of you lovely 8 readers of my blog, and to my gorgeous grown children whom I live for, Happy New Year!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-80360172963464179992012-11-29T14:29:00.002-05:002012-11-29T14:29:48.597-05:00I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty........I'm now 52 years of age, I have been a musician since the age of 16, I do not know how not be what I have been, what "I am". I have officially finished recording my 6th solo album, last night to be exact. I am so honored that people still like me (in that way) and yet I am completely frightened by the fact that they still like me (in that way). At this point I am not afraid to come right out and admit that I am a wreck. I am so torn between what I love to do and what I feel I am supposed to do. I am afraid to get on stage and do my thing because I feel like I have worn my welcome completely out and yet I feel cheated by the fact that I feel that way. I embrace many female artists over the age of 50 and I feel so many of "us" have so much to offer and I feel like it's under-appreciated because of our age. At this stage I am more confident in my writing and vocal ability than I have ever been but there is no self esteem to support that as I walk onto the stage. I have long since lost my youthful grace both physically and mentally (well, nevermind I have never had much mental grace) and I feel like, if I could just be invisible and sing and write that would make me happy. I want to shut myself up and yet I don't because I can't be a good example of aging gracefully if I do that and I have 2 teenage daughters who need me to show them strength and confidence, but I don't have any, not really. I am so lost and confused and my reaching out to people is me trying to hang on to something familiar, I am trying to keep going with confidence and gusto but I don't want to be on stage, I am dreading all of the shows and the pressure and I am not sure if I will follow through because doing so would mean I spend the next few months on autopilot while I try to pretend I am personable and care free. All I think about when I meet everyone is "what are they thinking of me"? "Do they find me hideous and old"? "What am I doing here I should retire"? But I will be smiling all the while and in my mind I will be singing "I Feel Pretty". I don't want to be a a fat, old, singer and yet I don't want to be anything else because I have no motivation to change. So if I chicken out on this promotion thing, I can promise you one thing...this album is great and if you listen to it while looking at the cover of <span style="color: red;"><em>UPDATE: 11/2012 OK so I am editing, re-reading my entire blog. I get to this page and I realize as I read it I, not only, did not finish it, I published it thus. This is me, the old me creeping out and falling into the pressure of the upcoming album promotion for Queen Of Nothing, I am focusing (here) on all the wrong things and I didn't even realize the backslide until I read this unfinished post. So, guess I'm not as together as I should be come album promote time, but better than I once was....weird.</em></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-68455273087428875302012-11-29T08:35:00.002-05:002012-11-29T09:06:59.493-05:00Demons in the backseatIt's been such a long time since I was a morning person. I am finding that I actually love being awake before the light, watching the sun come up, feeling the stillness of the house before anyone wakes up. I fancy myself deeper in the morning, I fancy myself, a lot of different things. The one thing that completely escapes definition for me is, well...me. There is something very interesting about the aging process, it is not something you could explain to anyone who is not there yet, but those who are will understand I am sure of it. The fact that your inner person becomes significantly more interesting than your outer person, is indeed a fact (for me and those I am going through this with it's just a given). I started off, like everyone I assume, concerned and pre-occupied with people's perception of "me". I wanted to make my parents aware of me, proud of me and so I spent my days trying to do the things that would facilitate that notion. I wanted to make friends in school, so I adopted whatever personality would make that happen, in elementary school I found that just being quiet and not saying anything that would draw attention to myself was the best way to skip the verbal abuse they threw at each other so that was more of a fit in by not standing out sort of thing, that carried through middle school, where I was horribly shy and lonely and not coping very well, probably not a unique scenario. To be someone in school who didn't get bullied or have self esteem issues was a miracle, I was not so lucky but I tried to make myself a smaller target, I missed a ridiculous amount of school, sometimes hiding in my closet until the bus went past, once my dad left for work I was home free and my Mother was glad for the company. High school was all about who I knew, how I looked, and who looked at me. I learned very early on that if I was the absolute opposite of the "me" I was in middle school, I would kick high school's ass. In my sophmore year I decided to be noticed and I wasn't going to do it just being myself so I adopted this personality and look that would change everything for me so I could get through it and maybe enjoy the process (I never did get that last part I hated school with a burning passion). I changed the way I dressed, I didn't eat in the bathroom stall anymore, I actually ate in the lunchroom where everyone could judge my choices and then I cut my hair off and joined ranks with some of the more popular people though I didn't really like them, most of them, at all. I found myself a boyfriend, popular jock type, very cute and I was in with the in crowd. All I cared about was how I looked, and who noticed me. I was very thin, fashionable and quirky, I used and abused it to get my way and I was not overly "deep" I had as much depth as your average 16 year old in a high school environment. I wanted to shop, dance, make out and draw attention to myself. I liked the attention I was getting, it fueled me. I did not get a lot of that attention before that, I was somewhat afraid of it but now I found that I liked it and the monster was created. After high school, I was an attention addict, started singing in bands, dressing in clothes that would single me out and let everyone know I was not like them, I talked louder, danced harder and was just all about myself. I was enjoying what my late teens and early twenties had done to my physical appearance and I had no idea what was going on in the world outside of Akron Ohio and the club scene, it didn't even seem real, I was just a big ball of loving the moment and waiting for the next event, everyone I knew was just like me...very self centered, fun first. The difference was the fact that I had a lot of baggage at home that couldn't be ignored so I gave up a lot of evenings out to keep the home fires burning, that should have been a positive, something good I saw in myself so I would more fully understand that I was not a one trick party pony, I should have liked myself more because there was a redeeming quality there, but I didn't like myself much at all and that's a whole different blog, so I made sure that other people did. Once I was married I shifted a bit, it wasn't all about me, it was about the impact Tony and I together would make, we were quite a thing and I really knew it and abused it. We were both (really) blonde and blessed with very dressable bodies, I loved clothes, we were all leather and spandex (it was the 80s after all). The people just gravitated towards our wonderfulness (that's how I saw it) and I felt very loved and adored which was something I could never feel about myself so I let other people do it and that seemed to work for a while, how bad could I really be if everyone else thought I was awesome? Even a trip to the grocery was full of attention, our fav cashier at the Sparkle Mkt. in Akron always said we were just so beautiful, what perfect couple, we were her favorite customers and she always told everyone about us, how we "stood out" and should be living in New York, and we were just completely in love with us. My Aunt Fern once said that "we were not really in love at all we just thought we were because we were in love with what we were together". Having Tony as a side kick was the best because he drew women to him like a magnet, he was such a bad boy punk rocker, so ridiculously good looking and I hate to say it but I loved making them envious. These were the girls, in my mind of course, that hated me in middle school, said I was ugly, anorexic, pale, wanted to kill me, and now I had the company of the guy everyone wanted, we were like Akron's 80s version of Gavin Rossdale and Gwen Stefani, (and when my bands popularity eclipsed his bands he did not handle it as well as Gavin Rossdale I can tell you that) and I was very aware of how to use it. We made the paper when we got married, seemed to be noteworthy to people and I thought I was just the shit, well...I was, I was shit. I did not care about anything except climbing the popularity pole, and whatever it took to get there. It was NOT a ladder, that would have been far to easy, it was indeed a pole, straight up and straight down! I was addicted to having my hip and shoulder bones stick out, I liked looking a little gaunt because it gave me more of an edge, less of a pop princess and more of a punk (the punks thought I was shit pop and the pop peeps thought I was bad punk so I didn't pull that off completely and they were both ultimately right I had NOT found my groove). I threw up constantly for fear of calories invading, I worked out like a maniac. I was an avid dancer and gymnast and not a day went by when I spent less than 3 hours moving intensely. I always looked at my back and if my back had even a hint of fleshy over pants, I went into a tailspin. I would not eat without throwing it up until I looked at my back in the mirror and saw that the little fleshy pocked was gone. I never starved myself much, I was not anorexic, I was definitely bulimic, I was diagnosed in my teens, treated off on and until my late twenties, then I kicked it's ass with very few relapses. I have the same doctor to this day and she still asks me if I am throwing up (should be pretty obvious I am not). I am sure that was the point when I realized I was off course, it took motherhood to put my life on my radar and I did not like the size of my bleep. Once Cory was born I shaped up, stepped up, gave up the self centered, narcissistic, ass that I had been. I no longer cared who I was seen with, what I was wearing or who noticed me. I actually gained so much weight during my pregnancy that I didn't go out much because I was humiliated. I think it was close to 70 pounds, I was so thin at first and then I had such a ridiculous appetite and I knew I could not throw up or it might cause problems so I just rolled (literally) with it. Tony thought I was fat and he slept on the couch (he told me if I ever got fat he was on the couch that was his constant worry that I would gain weight) sad thing is I was pregnant and I thought that was like a get out of jail free card, but it wasn't it counted and that was the beginning of the end for us. By the time Cory was 2, Tony and I had seperated and eventually we established a great working relationship, friendship (after a really bad rough patch we saw the bigger picture and it was Cory). I put all the focus, all the energy on Cory and I was really turning from someone who was not very conscientious into someone who was finding a true sense of self and purpose, I was not looking my best but I was completely suprised by the fact that it wasn't a big deal (for a while). I eventually lost the pregnancy weight because I was still to vain to accept myself as chubby but it was no longer all consuming like it once was, it became something I could deal with, my weight obsession, I definitely dealt better and was seeing hope that one day I would just let it all go and my mind would be free of the thing.<br />
I got back into music at the age of 29, it unfortunately caused a slowing down of my personal growth as the focus was put back on me, my appearance (short relapse). My comeback album Standing Alone was really a great achievement for me, I overcame a lot, reclaimed my love of music which was always the biggest factor even when I was self obsessed, I was a music person first and foremost. It was at this point that I realized there was a huge difference in creating music for the love of it and creating a product using music and image. I still cared about the image more than I should, but I was shifting. By the time I was winding down the Standing Alone promotion I was ready for a break, I took a break and dealt with a few things that had been waiting to be dealt with. Losing Tony was HUGE, I hadn't properly worked that out emotionally, though working on the album, working with Persona 74 had been a great outlet for me as a writer and I found it amazing that I could vent so much musically and not be called out on it. The guys in Persona 74 really gave me freedom to create and I loved that band. I finally called an end to my soul search mission which was 3 years of no dating, no relationships just self study, and growth and I stuck to it. THEN out of nowhere I felt like I was (just maybe) falling in love with Scott Shepard and it scared the hell out of me. I will absolutely say without doubt that he saved me from a lonely bitter life. I had wrapped myself so tightly and wrapped Cory WAY to tightly to protect us from going through that kind of devastation again that we were almost on our way to living in a cabin in the woods, with no contact. Scott showed me, not only, what love COULD and SHOULD be but how much it could take me out of myself and into others by putting them first. After Emma and Marisa were born (back to back and OH MY GOD that was hard raising 2 girls that close together and its still not a walk in the park I must say OY VAY)! I was no longer this self created Tracey Thomas person whom I did not like so much. I was not even slightly in love with "her" or "her" lifestyle. I had adopted a strong love of Yoga, meditation and (some) selflessness. I was caring for 3 children and that was what now mattered most, my Mother was getting older and was unwell so I took her on and there was no time to even think about myself and fortunately I found out that my priorities were solidly in place dispite my best efforts, I was not a monster, I was someone who loved deeply, took myself out of the equation as needed and stepped up. Remarkable really when I think about how I was and how I am. I constantly (still) struggle with the fact that I feel ignored, overlooked and under appreciated, and I am all of those things now and it's not always easy, I truly believe this is the middle aged woman curse and we just kind of become invisible except to each other which is why I treasure my old bitch warrior friends. I realize one thing for certain though...it's a bit of Karma. Karma is real people! I am a perfect example and you know what? I am glad to be paying it off, it's a great system really, it makes me feel better like I am attoning for my former self. So today as a 53 year old Mother (always first) musician and wife, I have gotten over my self, I have raised wonderful people to put out in the world, not without some emotional issues to deal with I mean they are mine after all. I have gotten over my obsession with my appearance (obviously) I would now call it a worry not an obsession. I love to cook, cooking for my family is something I treasure and with Cory living in Colorado and Emma out on her own, I still can't control it, I cook way to much food at one time. My weight is 50 pounds over what I said would cause me to jump off a bridge if I ever "got there" and my happiness is 60 tons over what I ever thought it could be dispite a rough patch financially and in my marriage. I still want to run and hide when I have to dress up for an occaision, like my CD release party in 2012 GOD!! I was so self absorbed then, I had a bit of a relapse because I didn't want to go on stage fat and I knew I had to overcome it. The beautiful thing is, I did. I put it into perspective, convinced myself it wasn't about my age or body size it was about the music I had created that I wanted to share (Thank you Judi Collins). The thing is now, the "me" thoughts go away fairly quickly, they have to or I would be a terrible wife, mother, friend. Scott and I have become fairly complacent, I think it's normal after 19 years together, he is always in his own brain, not very talkative these days and I pout about it now and again. Even if he doesn't spend as much time with me (he can't because of that thorn of a store) I know he loves me and would probably at least break an arm for me, it's unconditional though not overly romantic these days but I think that's what solid relationships evolve into. The kids are doing the things that people do as they grow up, they don't need (or want) my input anymore and I am struggling with that, trying to find a place or a purpose because I have been a mother for 25 years, it's a hard thing to just "retire" and not advise the hell out of everyone but I'm working on it. I have come full circle, I went from someone who wasn't noticed, to someone who was over noticed, to someone who is just another face in the middle aged woman crowd. Sometimes, I hate it, sometimes I love it. It's funny the one thing that bothers me is when I have my hand stamped to go into a show/bar whatever, I leave and comeback and they ask to see my stamp and I am always shocked that they forgot that I walked through the door, HA!!! PATHETIC but funny. I was never forgotten before I turned 30, it was always "Oh I remember you" or "Go on in" no one, forgot me...ever and now no one remembers me and you know what? It's all so poetic really......Karma, life, love, circles, beauty and fading, aging and growing inside while shrinking outside. There is no fighting it, you have to ride it out, learn and enjoy all the processes that brought you here. The other day I looked in the mirror and I was really happy with the fact that I am the age I am and my eyes are not wrinkling yet, it was a really "me" moment it had no importance in the grand scheme of anything, nothing does really, but it was a nice feeling to see that those eyes that have looked into themselves for 53 years, still held some beauty, some hope and reflected back the woman that I have become, against great odds, a woman of substance, love, character, a wonderful Mother Daughter and Friend. The frown lines around my mouth are disconcerting (to me) they are deep and they make me look sad, but they are representative of everything that brought me to this place, in front of the mirror, summing up my worth, my purpose and well, my age. I am the perfect representation of former self meets current self, I think you can tell that I have been challenged and hurt and scarred (like most of us) and I think you can tell that while I still struggle with that damn "no one really loves me at all" demon, his voice is quieter and he doesn't shine out of my 53 year old eyes like he once did, he seems comfortable in the back seat, with his seat belt on, letting me drive him around for a change, maybe even demons grow old. The best part of putting my demon in the backseat now? I get to pick the music and I pick.....me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-30460953798409643062012-11-17T11:31:00.003-05:002012-11-17T11:31:37.663-05:00SOBERING TRUTHS IN THE SMALL PICTURE WHICH I PAINSTAKINGLY PAINTED INCORRECTLY.<br />
It's 9:30 on a Saturday morning, I have just read the news on the net and it is starting to sink in that the world has some big ass problems, not just this country, this town, this family, that family...the world and I have been feeling sorry for myself for a couple of years now, I think I need to snap out of it, really...snap out of it. My day consists of (now that I have quit my job that lasted for 3 weeks) sleeping in when I don't have to take Scott to work because we share a car now, an old car, broken stuff all over the place, no On Star or heated seats these days, having coffee (not Starbucks but Maxwell House) and reading the news, checking in to see if we have all killed each other yet, then facebook and usually cleaning and coming to the aid of whichever of my children needs something. Emma still has no license so I spend more time with her, she has work and rehearsals so I'm still a functioning Mom at times which is a nice wind down to 25 years of full time parenting. Marisa works, drives and goes to school (college 2 years early). Cory now lives in Colorado which is a challenge, not having that smiley face with dimples popping in on a regular basis but...it's what we do right? We raise them to set them free with some great talents and skills, to conquer the world. Well now I am wondering what there is to conquer? Every single day the world outside my window becomes a more depressing place and the world inside my window is not getting any prettier and that's what I focus on because as I just realized...today I guess I am innately self centered, who knew? I spend a lot of time worrying, a LOT of time and I hate it. I worry about everything being ripped away because that was my reality in my formative years and even into my 20's and here it comes again like a freight train, a freight train that mocks me for being so stupid and thinking I was in "sunshine and flowersville". Stability was all that really mattered, all I wanted was a carefreeish<br />
normal life because it was not something I knew, and I wanted it desperately. So I gave up everything at the height of my career to choose the path of love and stability, family and the white picket fence and garden sort of vibe. I found that with Scott, we had a nice "thing" a great relationship and he made me feel completely loved, protected and adored. We had a wonderful start to our family, we had plenty of money so for the first time since my brief financially comfortable teen years, that was not something I had to deal with and it was so peaceful, I was at peace just knowing the lights weren't going out, the car was still in the driveway and no one wanted to shove us out of our home. Scott drank a couple of beers over a nice dinner (usually Russo's because money was no thing) and he was always aok to drive and function and be there for us, which had not been something I knew with my Father or Tony (my first husband). I was about as happy as I can remember being. My children had cute little toys all over the place, great bedrooms, Cory had every video game his heart desired and fun money whenever, the girls had wonderful little matching outfits and at one count 90 Barbies (Dear God) and my children were loved and adored and indulged and I hope they remember that, I hope they remember that being the most important thing, a family full of love AND stuff, that was nice too. I didn't count money before the grocery trips, we took at least 1 vacation every year, we saw the ocean, the mountains, ruins and Disney Disney Disney, and we did it together. Well that was then.....and the now I've been kicked awake to realize that was just a dream and now I am back to what has been my more common reality and I feel like I'm in a nightmare at times, like some cruel joke has been played on me and I feel sorry for myself. THIS is the place to be, this is what I am "used to" and until today when my lightbulb blinked I was wallowing in this fact, THE OH I NEVER GET A BREAK fact which turns out to be fiction, so yay. YES the money is gone, the nice, heated seats and tv's in the cars are gone, the house is going we just don't know how long we can squat here before they pull us out with the little cane, like on the Gong Show, that's how I imagine it, they will just shove the hook/cane in the door and pull us out. Scott lost his spark when his buisness began failing, he's not really Scott anymore because the stress of it all the loss of our lifestyle that he felt responsible for keeping up is so far in the front of his mind and heart that he can't see out now. I miss him and who we were, and it's always on my mind and I'm not sure about riding it out anymore, most of the time I <em>don't</em> wake up with lightbulbs over my constantly chattering brain, telling me I am truly blessed, most of the time I am just worried about what's to become of us and I find it impossible to sleep without popping pills so thank God for generics. I think this may just be our life, just like it was always my life...my fate my purpose to be completely unable to achieve a lasting stability. So I count coupons before grocery visits, we haven't had a family vacation in 8 years, my 16 year old daughter who is the only one at home now, works so hard just to have some money to help with school and clothes and gas and she contributes so much of her time and money to her charity "Random Acts" because like her nickname bestowed when she was a baby, she is Mother Theresa. I swollowed my pride and got a job at Giant Eagle, checking in flowers and checking out people with nice wines and expensive meats and cheeses, all the things I never once gave a second thought about purchasing. I let them roll their eyes when I'm slow packing and I let them look at me like I was probably not capable of being anything other than a 53 year old grocery clerk, I understood it....for 3 weeks and then I didn't understand it anymore but I understand something so much more profound now that it took waking up at 9:30 on a Saturday morning and reading the news to teach me a valuable lesson. I am not always appreciated by the people around me and quite frankly I deserve to be, but bla bla bla. And even though I may not feel like it very often, I know I am loved, I followed my heart and made music my life instead of something with a bigger payout, I chose my passion over my wallet. I did that at a great cost to myself financially, heart over head, turning down the things that meant I was going to make more money but give more soul. I may not have "a pot to piss in" anymore but I have my husband who doesn't say much but he probably doesn't really have to, I get it, I know him and I know he's the guy for me, drunk, sober, depressed, happy, young or old, fat or thin, looking like Nick Nolte or Fred Flinstone, I don't give a shit...we are a team. I'm not a viable music product anymore, I'm overweight and getting frown lines and my feet hurt all the time...again bla bla bla. I have gloriously talented children, all 3 of them are so soulful, by that I mean, they are in touch with the core of themselves, they all may just be hot messes emotionally but that's the family traditions!Cory and Emma write amazing songs, songs that I wish I had the ability to write, to dig that deep. Marisa is a fantastic artist and she does not even realize how talented she is, it's amazing and she has an unbelieveable singing voice, her comedic timing as an actress is just something to watch, I see her as the perfect Glinda in Wicked, blonde, funny, huge voice, she would kick that roles ASS!~Emma's voice is crazy, she writes and sings her songs with such passion but people don't realize how BIG she sings, when she did a song from Dream Girls in the school talent show, it was kind of like a hush fell and the people behind me were saying "Oh My God" and I knew that was my kid, it was better than heroin (well..that's a guess because hypochondriacs don't really do that sort of thing). She can sing Adele like it was row row row your boat and she is a wonderful actress as well. Marisa did a song from Funny Girl and posted it on YouTube and people were writing me constantly saying...OH MY GOD (we get that a lot round here so another positive OH MY GOD)! Cory could possibly be the most intelligent man I have ever met, he was a crazy genius kid, he's still really crazy but he's still a genius, it's a delightful combination. He knows medicine inside and out and he should have been a doctor, we all know it but he doesn't have the organizational skills to conquer the schooling. He is a wicked classical guitarist, blues, jazz, rock (but he doesn't like that much) he can play with the best of them. Dan Auerbach hooked him up with Pat Sweeny who offered him a job in his band, playing guitar and touring. I will never forget the night he realized he couldn't do it, we just sat and cried about it because the fear demon got him and I knew that ship was going to sail and he absolutely should have been on it, like my ship that sailed when I turned down my life changing offer, out of fear, I knew that he was standing at the Crossroads and he was going to choose the path that kept him safe, secure because he probably felt like the world was going to end while he was gone, and he would be alone in the cold and dark...because that gene survives generation after generation and takes away all of our chances and I was sad for him but he found another road, another way to be and now he treks the mountains, swims with (not funny) beavers and hikes with the bull moose, feeds horses and a feisty alpaca, He's learning to love the world around him, he plays music for himself not the masses and he is happy with very little, he seems to have figured it out in some way and that makes me happier than vacations every year. So my point is this after all the rambling, I read the news today (Oh Boy). There is fighting, escalating to war on the Gaza Strip. Hurricane Sandy victims are not going to have Thanksgiving in their homes with a cozy fire and plenty of food. A woman in the middle east was just savagely killed by her husband and it was considered justified because she did something like "talk to the pool guy". A family in New Jersey saw a toy floating in the flood waters that turned out to be a dead baby. People are starving, really starving, hoping for a bowl of rice a day, they pee in the streets and rivers because they have no indoor plumbing. Someone out there is beating a dog, beating their wife, beating there child. Someone lives in a cardboard box in the winter, someone wishes they had a cardboard box so they havea to sleep on the subway grates for warmth. Someone's child never came home from school and they have no answers, someone's house is burning down with every material thing that ever mattered inside. Some old woman is in a nursing home trying to remember her family and who she is, how she got there. Someone is sick from chemo, someone is dying of a drug overdose, someone is at a funeral for a friend, someone is watching their wife walk out the front door into the arms of their best friend, someone is alone on Thanksgiving with just a television and a frozen dinner. Take the house, take the cars, close the store, skip the vacations and buy the fucking Value Time. I have so much more than I could have ever hoped for in the big scheme of things outside my window for however long I have the privledge of looking out that window...and I don't have to work on Thanksgiving because my family loves and supports me even if I only lasted 3 weeks at Giant Eagle. God Bless Us Every One.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-244257240744548262012-08-12T11:16:00.002-04:002012-08-12T11:34:50.912-04:00The PhoenixSo we all seem to have this desire to grace the planet with our presence. So many of us spend our lives just fighting to be heard, seen, acknowledged by other people and by Gods. I sit here, typing at the age of 53, after a few days of deep contemplation and life evaluation (I only blog/journal when I feel like I'm going to be profound which sadly I seldom accomplish but I love to hear myself blabber on and on). I have realized very few "truths" in my life, one of them being that there are very few "truths". I do, however, realize that I, hopefully, was completely missing the point of this experience, I've been missing the meaning behind the story but I keep reading the book even though I can't comprehend it. I have had an enlightening week and I feel closer to whatever I am seeking. My earliest memories are of a very disfunctional family, a child that felt very insecure and scared (me) not knowing what it was to have a real home, or a sense of security. My father was an alcoholic, frustrated in the closet homosexual (well in the closet when he wasn't out with his man friends) he was full of anger and while he didn't physically manifest his anger, he verbally destroyed us. My Mother was my rock (though I didn't realize she was made of glass until I was much older) she tried so hard to make things normal for me dispite her own anxiety and struggles, but she failed to fix it because she was to cut down by then to be much more than "there". I love her with all my heart to this day because she wanted in the deepest part of her for things to be different but she couldn't find her way. I have always been, had always been, the person that said the past should not be a factor when you are talking about your short comings, you are who you are and you know right from wrong so don't blame everything on your bad childhood just get over it. I think I was wrong...somewhat. I still believe that a bit but I have softened. Conflicts with my family have shown me...me. Recently I have had to step back and look at myself from a different, less flattering perspective and I can clearly see that my upbringing has had a huge influence on who I became as an adult, though a few months ago, I would have denied it whole heartedly. People teach you about yourself if you are able to learn that you will be a better person for it. My reactions to things that I thought were "rejection" were so justified in my mind until I really listened, and watched myself from everyone else's perspective. I was so ready to be rejected and ignored and bullied that I reacted to it, even if it hadn't happened, hair trigger sort of thing. I also (now) realize that I allow people to walk all over me because I am afraid of conflict that involves the people I love. Conflict with strangers, bring it on...conflict with my loved ones, curl up in a ball. Once I really looked at all this, I knew that I react exactly like I always have, I didn't change, I didn't heal, I didn't "become" anything else at all. I am still 10, hanging on to my Dad's leg on Thanksgiving day begging him not to leave us while he shook me off then walked to his car and didn't stop driving until he hit Florida where he stayed for years...without us. He did bring me back a transistor radio when he came home 4 years later so all was forgiven. I am still the 15 year old girl sitting in a dark room with my Mother while we tended to one of her daily panic attacks with the curtains drawn, door shut...so sure she was going to die right there because she told us she was going to die right there and it felt like she could go just from fear itself, fear of her own mind and that's the scariest fear there is. My friends were at Summit Mall, getting hot pretzels at Woolworths...blue slushies, with 2 straws, looking at boys, I was trying to keep my Mother alive just by being with her because she was so afraid to be alone. I swore that I would NEVER allow my children (if I should ever have them) to take care of me, to give up their lives so mine would be better and I have held true to that I believe. I don't ask my children for anything...I want them to be free and happy and full of adventure. Unfortunately 2 of my children/adult children now, have some emotional sensitivities, I believe they are genetic and NOT learned behavior (not 100 percent anyway) because I have fought so very hard to bring them up with love, hugs, and a huge dose of normal, but they are finding their way, they are strong and capable, not always, but they know they can come to me because I get it, I know exactly how they feel, they feel like my Grandmother, Mother, Sister, and me, completely lost and afraid at times, but it's episodic and we understand that it's physical and treatable and we go on, we are a team this family, a really bad team with a LOT of love and the ability to laugh at ourselves. I realize now what I thought was Ozzy and Harriet (if you even remember) was MY version of Ozzy and Harriet because it was / is so much better than my experience of family that I thought I was kicking some MOM ASS! I was wrong, tough lesson but one (now) learned. I was so hell bent on my children having a voice, choices, hugs and a warm home with lots of pretty things homecooked meals and lots of dogs! All the things I thought were the makings of a great childhood, came from my dreams of what childhood should be, things I dreamt of when I was sleeping in the car in a rest area because we were evicted (again), things I dreamt about with my dog laying at my side for 14 years knowing that the only real friend I would ever have would be him...Jaque, my dog who would growl at my dad when he yelled at me for some stupid ass thing like not taking my shoes off when I walked in the house, or then the next week, not leaving my shoes on when I walked in the house (the oils from your feet ruin the carpet you know). One day my dog got so upset when my dad was yelling at me that my dad picked him up and punched him in the air and down the basement steps. He survived and he never stopped trying to kill my dad with his eyes. I remember when Jaque finally left, he was old and sick and going blind, I was 15, he was 14 and we had landed in a home that we would be in until after I was married with children of my own ( my dad settled down a bit and we had our forever home and things were better). It was almost like Jaque knew I was ok(ish) now and he could go, there was a huge storm and somehow he got out the back door and just kind of walked away and I went to find him because the worst thing was when he ran away it just killed me, but he did that from time to time and we always brought him home. This time we never found him and someone told me that an old dog who was sick would sometimes just wander off to save the people they love from the dying process, so even at the end that dog wanted the best for me and I never forgot him, never will...to this day dogs are my favorite companions, I have 3 and they mean the world to me. One time my dog (Jaque) ran away and was gone for 3 days, my Mother was in the psychiatric ward for an extended stay (again) I was at my Grandmother's and he wandered off and probably headed for home but got lost. I couldn't get out of bed, I didn't eat and my dad was so worried that he took out an ad in the paper, found my guy and didn't tell me until he came home from work and put him on my bed, I was so overcome with emotion, that couldn't stop shaking and crying, it was like he had come back from the dead and I couldn't believe he was there with me, best day ever. I remember that like it was yesterday and I remember it because I realized at that moment dispite the fact that my dad's demons made him a terrible parent, that he loved me in his own way and I thought of him differently from then on. I didn't hate him, I was sorry for his miserable life and the fact that he had to hide himself from the world and live an unauthentic life for fear of persecution and shame, he had to hold my Mother together so she wouldn't disolve into nothing and he had to deal with alcoholism on top of it all. I couldn't have done it, and there is no blame there now, not for that at least but I would grow to dispise him for mistakes to be made in the future, he turned out to be a shit, overall, just a true shit, but for now I thought he was not so bad. So I AM a product of my past, and it's OK. The lesson here is not to live there, not to accept your weaknesses because it's "how you were raised" but to accept that and fight it...pick a different reaction, really look at what hurts you and deal with it like a big girl. I have never emotionally been "a big girl" I have been that wounded child my whole life. This week, I realized that she needs to grow up and stop bothering me so that I can teach my children (grown or not) to shut the little boys and girls up and end a cycle of thinking that has gone on for generations now. I can't fix the genetic issues, anxiety, panic, depression, it's not something I can fix for them and I hate to say this because I am not a prescription drug fan most of the time, but if my Mother would have had prozac when she was going through her breakdowns, she would have been capable of having a life worth living, once my Father passed away my Mother changed, she was fun, ( she was always pretty fun actually she was an aging party girl and all of my friends/cousins adored her she was the true center of attention) and a great Grandmother, and yes she had a bit of "medicine" to help ease the past, but it was way late in the game for her, by that point there were no more dreams of love and laughter, no ambitions, only some cancer that would take 7 years to do her in, but those were the happiest years of her adult life, the last 7...aint it "ironic". Sometimes, we have physical issues that need some tending and I'm glad we live in a time when that's a possiblity. What I can fix are my over reactions to things percieved, that are not real and that is what I am working on with all my heart and soul. So I have spent my life trying to be noticed, trying to be something that people would remember because I felt so invisible for so long, I was always just an accidental product of a bad relationship, something to be dealt with and endured because it was the right thing to do...I'm very glad for it actually. I remember My Mom saying she was so sure she would die, when she found out she was pregnant, she was FURIOUS and scared, she took phenobarbital while she was pregnant, she smoked and couldn't eat, then all of the sudden she said she felt so good, so normal like whatever was wrong with her physical make up was cured by her pregnancy after the first trimester. She believed I "saved her life". She thought maybe it was hormonal that the pregnancy hormones fixed her "issues" because both times she was pregnant, she felt wonderful after the first 3 months. I believe I came into this world just to hold her together and I started in utero, taking care of me mum, but whatever the reason I spent my life trying to win people over and show them that I was worth it, worth the time and the energy to get to know me, I always just wanted a chance and I always got one. I look down at things and I see how unimportant we all are, we are just specs from a birds eye view, we don't matter, we are cells in a sea of blood, bacteria in an ocean, stars in the sky, but I always wanted to be the one little spec that people noticed, so they could love me and I would be special. The strange thing about being 53 is that no one notices, no one listens, no one finds any value in a middle aged woman, no more sexy, no more edgy, no more cool and trendy, just...invisible so you have to fight harder to stand out and then when you do, if you care to that is, you are just that crazy lady that hangs out at starbucks, with the little hat and the hippie skirts, you are no one, have been no one, will never be anyone ever again and you know what......it's lovely! Anonymous, just another Mom reading Fifty Shades Of Gray, remembering a life of rising above a predisposition to failure, rising high enough to be the one little light that was a tad brighter than the others for a minute, maybe seen by God or Aliens or Human's just for a second, as my Aunt Dean used to say I was the little engine that could, and for a nano second in an endless universe, I made a mark..... on myself....just on myself, I rose above an endless sea of negative possibilities to raise a family of substance, potential and love and hope. I have set them out on the world to do the same, to shine for just long enough to prove to yourself that you can do anything and that's all that matters in the end, how you feel about yourself and how much you love and cherish the select few you get to share the time with. I know the people I have raised to be good and just, talented and hard working, intelligent and interesting. I know my heart, I know the reasons for my choices that are mine to make (and should not be judged by anyone). I know where I came from and I have no idea where I am going and that's OK because I love a good adventure....it's how I was raised :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-89007960288711699372012-04-19T19:49:00.000-04:002012-04-19T19:49:50.603-04:00Been A Long Time Since I Rock and Rolled..........Yeah well, I have not blogged in a bit so I thought I should attempt to say something interesting, whitty or poigniant. I just wrapped my 6th solo CD (7th album) and a best of compilation. I can't believe I am now 52 and still working as a musician/vocalist/writer person. I remember when I told everyone if I didn't have a decent record deal (back in the day when that was a "thing") by the age of 30 I would quit, and I did...for a long while. I actually stopped working a few times along the road, once when Unit 5 broke up I left the buisness for years and worked as a hair and make up person. I started recording again in 1994 and have managed to put an album out now and again over the years. At this point things are VERY different from my last album experience, not only the way things are recorded just technically, but the person I am now is not the same person who recorded Ghost Town 5 years ago. I conceptualized the Ghost Town album during a time when my life was a bit bleak, I was caring for my Mother who was dying and the mood around here, around me, was dark. The mood didn't lift much until recently and I did not care much about music or anything other than raising my family, facebooking to much and trying to stand by my man while he watched his life's work crumble. I did that for over 5 years, we seem to be either used to it or the mood is just lifting because everything is temporary. I was lost and trying to re-evaluate my life and my place in the world for a while, through the process, which as I look back I can now see clearly, I learned my place, I gained some momentum and I crossed a bridge into the "older woman" village on the other side of the "younger woman" village I had lived in. Now my view is quite a bit different, it's better in a lot of ways and not better in a lot of ways. The bad thing is there is no longer that voice in my head that tells me I am not really to old to do anything...that voice stopped spewing at me when I turned 50 and I'm glad because it would have been lying for I am now absolutely to old to do some things and pull it off without backlash. IT'S NOT BECAUSE I GIVE A RATS ARSE if you think I'm to old to work in the music buisness, it's not about that because I will work until I don't love it anymore and if you don't want to look at my wrinkled old shtick up there don't come (so that's the positive part about getting older, you get sassy and you don't give a shit what people think most of the time so it's kind of cool). It's the "other stuff" I can't pull off because It hurts...my body hurts. I no longer paint my own house with wild abandon, I can't walk more than a mile anymore because my feet hurt, I can't see the lyrics to the songs I am trying to write without reading glasses and I can't hold more than 2 glasses of wine without getting stupid or having to pee. I am on the other side of the bridge, and I can tell. HOWEVER, I can still write an album with or without help, though working on Queen Of Nothing with Ryan Humbert was a blast. Some days I feel 90 and some days I feel 20 but all days I know I am round about 50 something on the outside, it's the inside that's tricky because the inside has no idea what the hell it's doing on what day, or why or if it's old or young, the inside is stupid as hell. I cry if you look at me cross eyed and I snap before you have really done anything wrong...I'm just ready for it. BUT I have more confidence in my ability to sing/write than I ever have but less confidence on stage (I have grown to dislike it a bit actually but I'm trying to get it back). I am about to out this record so I need to embrace getting back up there because it's what you do, you record and you play and promote and hope some people buy it. Without a live show to back up the product there's not a real point to any of it so I am trying to get my mood and my ass back into stage form (at least within reason on both points). I never was a huge fan of playing, I always felt a bit insecure though I'm not sure anyone knows that. When I was young and thin I was afraid my voice was not up to par and I always worried that the lower range of my voice would give way during a live show, I had a limited range where the lows were concerned back in the day. But now I am older and NOT thin but my voice doesn't worry me anymore, I have excercised it to the point of being confident that it will "everybody get high, everybody get low" as needed, but I feel insecure in my own skin up there now so that's kind of no fun at all, I don't think I have ever had the pleasure of hitting the stage confident about everything I was bringing to the picnic, body soul and talent, they haven't synced up as I would have liked over the years. I would love to be all Chrissie Hynde, thin, cool as hell, voice better than ever, still looking like a rock star. I feel like the people who don't know me are thinking..."wow who's letting the Hudson High soccer Grandma's sing tonight"? But then I think..."Screw it because I can do this and you can do...NOTHING AS WELL OR AS COOL AS THIS SO BUGGER OFF!! That's how I build my self esteem now, I convince myself I am cooler than everyone, I say mean things to the people who have way more on the ball than I do, but I say them to myself and then I laugh to myself and I am only one step away from being the old lady that sings Adele in your face at the bus stop when you look at me like I'm boring, it's like......take that! BITCHES, you stand at the bus stop when you are 52 and fat and, sing Adele...THAT'S RIGHT! YOU HEARD ME! DAMN, I throw in a few runs while I hold one ear and close my eyes, for dramatic affect......got to prove I am special all over the damn place, should be able to tell that by just lookin. BUT, I have grown to really like this side of the bridge where all of us old bitches know the score, we are better than we have ever been but no one gives a shit so we don't have to try so hard.<br />
I have been doing the obligitory minimum excercise these days, which for me is dancing (my body hurts) I was a dancer, I would like to think I still have the ability to get lost in it and enjoy it but so far I only "would like to think that" because I just count the minutes until I can stop (my body hurts). I have tried to embrace my love of Yoga again, just for peace of mind and fluidity in my limbs but I can't do the forward poses anymore because my stomach is in the way. I was once quite a wonderful sight to behold doing "the yoga" ...graceful, firm, confident. NOW I am still a wonderful sight to behold...if you need a good belly laugh, because it's hilarious. I no longer wear cool little yoga pants and sports bras, I have to wear my husbands shirt and my (thank God) pj pants, I didn't even know that it had gotten that bad until I bought the yoga pants and put them on with a black v neck t shirt (my favorite), I was sure of what it would look like (in my head) because I have owned many yoga pants and t-shirts in my life but the mirror was a cruel friend and told me in no uncertain terms that my once healthy relationship with spandex had run it's course and my new motto is.......cover everything that looks like skin. So I do yoga, lazy man's yoga because I am uninterested, and I cover everything that I can without rendering myself immobile. So coming soon to a venue near you....me, probably in the most clothing I can wear for whatever season we are in and it looks like, LUCKY ME.....Summer. I have also been working on my guitar skills, I haven't played in a long time (my hands hurt) and I am more than a little rusty, I never learned a proper F chord because it's to "stretchy" and it involves a lot of work for my pinky and well, it's painful and I'm bored and uninterested so I may also hit the stage this summer being painfully great at E A C D G and the variations of such...but painfully bad overall...no F's no B's! Thank God for bands, really good bands which I happen to have so the only reason I HAVE to play is so my guitar can cover my gut. I am really looking forward to, however, seeing everyone! I love it when all the crazy old (really now it's literal) Unit 5 fans show up and say hi. I like talking to people, meeting people and "kabitzing". I love to sing, I love to just...sing the songs and usually about 1/2 way through my set I am into the zone and no longer worried that I didn't lose enough weight in time. This time however I have to worry also (well I don't have to but I choose to) that I am older than everyone else on the bill which really shouldn't matter at all, it is what it is, sometimes I feel it and sometimes I don't. The good thing about the new record/shows is that my tone/mood while writing this album is that of a middle aged woman and there are a whole big lot of us out there so I am thinking my demographic has changed and I hope they get me, because...I am them, my songs should mean something to a wonderful group of people who have been neglected by the music biz......The Old Bitch Warriors (thanks Melanie). So if all you wonderful 45+ women need someone to write about what you are going through at this stage of your life, I'm your spokesperson. I think it's about time someone did a concept album about menopause (I'm working on it). Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-75253699388654731222011-12-07T12:55:00.001-05:002012-11-29T14:25:20.389-05:00Motherhood, All We Bare and All We Screw Up.I blog even though I am not at all sure what blogging actually is. I should say, I journal here so fire, water or time can not destroy my words because my main goal is to let my children and their children read about "stuff" so they come to know me better one day, like my mother did with her old school paper journal. So if it crosses your mind that I am full of myself for writing about my life, you would be wrong. I am full of nothing but the desire to someday be understood. So having said that...<br />
Standing at the crossroads, that's absolutely where I am, right now, 52 beginning and ending everything all at once and I have to say, it's pretty heavy. As I look <em>back, </em>I see my life as having been chaotic, unstable, challenging, blessed and cursed. As I look <em>forward </em>I see a sense of calm, resolve, stability even in the midst of enormous challenge and change. I don't know why it took me 52 years to get it together, it's actually not a completed process so I'm not even there yet. I know that my mind has always been very hard to quiet, I am guilty of thinking way to deep into simple matters that really didn't need figuring out. I rode the roller coaster but tried to climb out the back instead of sitting and letting it happen. I see this trait in my children, in different ways. So now the looking back, and it is not always the easiest thing for me. One of my fantastic children (you know who you are) is fearful and anxious, full of insecurities with a bubbly personality and inner demons to spare. The other is (you also know who you are) making big plans always jumping in head first, mind going all the time, thinking and planning then stressing out to get these things done. The other is (you know this is you but you will argue with it) the epitome of the tortured artist, brilliant, talented and brooding, prone to bouts of deep depression yet funny and fascinating to be around most of the time, though this child would never think they were fascinating, talented or interesting, they would be wrong. I look back now and I see I did all of these same things, I am guilty of being insecure on the inside, bubbly on the outside, angry and brooding, etc. I have come to the realization that it's just a personality's way of coping with the lot they have been given, all these "issues" we have. I had to escape from a hard childhood into a world of plans and dreams just so I could form a way out of it all. It gave me hope, kept me looking forward. When I was around 12 I used to go into the woods by myself and pretend I lived there, alone with the animals. I would go deep in the woods for hours and I was rather like Peter Pan but with no Lost Boys. I LOVED it, it was an escape and I was in control of my entire life, the rocks were my chairs, the grass was my bed, I actually felt like I had my own little "pad", I would decorate it using coke bottles, flowers rocks, whatever. I LOVED being there so much I can't tell you, I had a pet squirrel! I would jump down hills, run, climb trees and no one was around so it was silent and blissful, no sad Mother crying about life, no fighting drunk Father yelling at us, it was sooooooo peaceful and I knew as soon as I could, I would have my own place to be, to control and control became an issue, right then and there, I realized I liked it and I also realized when I couldn't physically leave there was intense fear and sadness, so I learned to "mentally" leave, I developed a fantastic imagination. No one really knew that side of me, it wasn't for public viewing, I have always kept a LOT to myself, mainly for fear of talking about it, I didn't want to ever get emotional and out of control and just talking about things brings it up and causes me distress, it always has so I just bury it. I think, on the outside, I was always pretty bubbly and easy going. I was "the nice one" most of the time though sometimes I was very nasty to people, even though it wasn=t the norm, it happened more than it should have. I am not now by the way, I used to let people know if they crossed me, that I wasn't having it, I could cut you down before you even got started and you would feel it. 2 of my children inherited this fantastic gift and use it readily I am quite sorry to say. Again, I think it was a form of self preservation, it kept people from being able to hurt me or make me feel bad, I simply pounced on them before they could do that. I had lunch with one of my best friends Mark (30 years plus) the other day, and he asked me "Do you still have a temper"? I said "No I really don't". He said "good". All 3 of my children have a tendency toward that same wounded puppy personality, to different degrees but it's present. Is it genetic? They have parents who indulge them, who adore them, parents who really care for each other so the daily fighting that warped me, they have never really experienced (or so I thought, little did I know that fighting affects the family even if it's not the parents doing it). Scott and I argue an average of 2 times a year at the most, we really like and respect each other so they have been lucky there, however the fighting between one of my children and myself, has been brutal and my emotional response to it has shed a light on my weakness and complete inability to cope with fighting in a way that anyone could call "adult like". I cave and crumble and cannot handle it not even a bit, so when I am put upon by the people who are supposed to love me, I react strongly, like a wounded child, not a Mother and I never thought it was me being weak, I thought it was them being cruel, well, it's both but I did not handle it correctly and my children have grown up thinking me weak because that is what I have given them, just like my Mother gave me, but I understand her now and I know she did what she had to do and I love my Mother, she was WAY tougher than I thought. What was once a bad attitude that I thrashed the people who hurt me with, was turned into sadness and weakness because I did not EVER want to bully or demean my children, it was different so it just...hurts me and I give up, I surrender, and it sets a bad example and makes me feel weak and whipped. BUT, the harder part is facing the fact that the baggage I carried over, was not dumped before it influenced my family, now they have a needy, weak and sad Mother to tend with, just what I said I would NEVER do. Do I blame all the flaws on myself... absolutely not, I'm a firm believer in "it takes at least 2 to tango" and we have all been dancing for decades in this family, my family, back for many generations. I can't really blame myself because I have tried my absolute best to be great at this, I was not a lazy, whatever Mom I was all hands on and love, support and fun. However, I would be lying and that's not what this blog is about, if I didn't tell you, I screwed up a lot and it did not make growing up with me overly easy. SO, it's not just you random Mom out there thinking she is the worst ever..it's a lot of us we just dont talk about it. Being a Mother is hard work, it is rewarding and challenging and fulfilling but when you screw it up it stays on your mind and heart forever. I think because my ultimate goal in life was to have a family that was something like perfect, I set myself up for failure. I really thought it was possible to just, have my own family and make it strong, loving, perfect and then it would wipe away all the yuck from the past. I was wrong and oblivious. I guess I thought if everyone just loved each other, hugged everyday, said I love you everyday, read books, played music together life would be all daffodils and bunnies. Well, not so much because you have to set your little family up with rules and boundries and guidelines and RESPECT. I didn't do that, I raised my children so free and easy because I thought that would spare them all the negative so there were not many rules, sleep when your tired, rise when you are rested, eat when you are hungry, your room is your space so if it's a mess and you are happy, that's fine, talk to me in any way you like because you have a right to express yourself, you are an individual not my "thing". Bla Bla Bla Bla. My wonderful friend (you know who you are) had a lovely wine night with me one evening, which resulted in me spending the night at her house and sitting in my car smoking a cigarette and crying, while she sat there with me, that's actually a HUGE night I will always remember because it was ground breaking, eye opening, whatever. Anyway, she said I was probably the most loving Mother ever, but I was wrong about my theory that "all you need is love". She wisely told me children need discipline and rules to grow as human beings and thrive in this world because let's face it, the world is full of guidelines that my little hippie kids were having trouble grasping. She was right, she usually is and I began the next day (or so I thought) trying to give more form to their lives so they would feel better about themselves and the world. Cory was to old, he was past all that, he was a grown man and even though he was living at home, he was raised and functioning so it was to late for all the new life lessons. THE GOOD NEWS IS, Cory is intelligent enough that he realized I was weak and spacey, he saw what life was about on his own, he stepped up, he moved out and is a thriving wonderful human being dispite my all you need is love upbringing. He works, he goes to Kent State he is the most fantastic guitarist and songwriter and 2 of my favorite songs EVER have been written by my son. Plagued by insecurity I doubt he will ever be a performing musician, though he has played a few shows, but he likes his life in a small sort of bubble that he can maintain and control, he always has and I don't see that changing. He is VERY slow to add anyone into his inner circle, slow to form friendships and relationships, he is always a bit put off by people but My God he is so smart, it's almost hard to talk to him he is that out there intelligent. Cory will readily admit I wasn't involved enough with the parenting, that he always felt loved and cared for but he wasn't sure how to adjust to guidelines, he figured it out on his own. My poor husband Scott! He and I married when Cory was 7, he sat back and watched me give into everything to protect Cory from the harsh horrible world. If Cory didn't want to do something, he did not have to do it, I spoiled him and kept him very close and when Scott talked about it, I exploded..he's my son, I will do whatever I can to keep him from being hurt again with the bla bla bla. I over compensated because Cory's life got off to a rough start, his Father died when he was 4, my Father died in front of him when he was 6, and there is so much more garbage he dealt with, it was rough and I wanted it to be over so I made him to happy with everything I could possibly give, I spoiled him and I wouldn't listen to anyone. It was a rough patch and I thought everyone was wrong and I was right (that's another one of my problems by the way). Emma was always a free spirit, little hippie (hipster) waiting to happen, she is a ball of creativity, songwriting, singing, acting, she writes incredible stories and draws these intricate amazing doodles, she is a vegan, a poet and quite the enchantress. Talent is oozing out of her pores, she is day and night creating and it's an amazing thing to watch. Emma's songs are fantastic, dark and edgy. She has been compared to Regina Spektor in her delivery and Joni Mitchell in her lyric content. Chuck Klosterman said she was "obviously very talented" and she is just wating for her break because I promise you it is coming, I WISH I had the depth as a writer that she has, she truly has something to say and her voice is incredible. Emma is actually quite sunny most of the time, her sense of humor is whacky and she is a "who cares what people think I am having fun" kind of girl, she LOVES going out with her friends, she has a LOT of guy friends (just like her mama). She is loud and funny and spontaneous, but when she gets something on her mind, she is dark and sad (just like her mama). There is a show called "New Girl" the main character's name is Jesse and if you watch it, you have met Emma, they are <em>so much</em> the same. If you look at her pictures from prom in one of my facebook albums, you will see what I mean it's hilarious. Speaking of hilarious, Marisa is HILARIOUS, her sense of humor is just like her Father's she is always cracking us up with the most random outbursts and nonsensical blabbing. From the first week of her life, actually from the first day in the delivery room, Marisa was the easy one. I was scheduled for a c-section and she was just coming anyway, right in the middle of Longhorn Steakhouse, probably because she didn't want to put me through the surgery. I could have had her with so little effort but they wouldn't allow it because I had 2 previous c-sections. The nurse actually asked me to stop her birth so the doctor could come and do the c-section. She kept saying STOP! DON'T PUSH and of course Marisa stopped because she didn't want to upset the system so we waited for my doctor to get there. We nicknamed her Mother Theresa probably within the first week because she was so easy. She slept, she ate, she smiled and was completely agreeable. Emma had been a very colicky baby, she cried non stop day and night and the only thing that could quiet her was Scott, she LOVED him from day one, he would take her outside and let the wind hit her face and we would stand there loving the silence because she would stop crying when we went outside. Scott would say "soon this will all be behind us and we will look back and tell stories about how hard it was" I would be crying and saying "She hates me, she only likes you"! Marisa is the one who most suffered the drama of the way I raise my children. She is sensitive, introspective and EXTREMELY talented but somehow manages to stay under the radar. I believe there is so much goings on about Emma as a singer/songwriter that Marisa feels she is not as good or as worthy of praise. One look at the video of her singing "My Man" from Funny Girl will show everyone that this girl has some pipes! Marisa is a fantastic actress, great comedic actress and singer, if she had the time to devote (still) to this craft she could go very far in theater. I remember one time her director came to me after an audition and said "based on that audition she has the lead in the next play she auditions for" it was that good! She is so very talented, it blows me away the depth of it. If she wants to learn an instrument, she teachers herself and picks it up ridiculously fast, she can play piano and guitar (self taught). Marisa is, however, so busy being Marisa that she has fallen away from her theater days and it makes us very sad because she is SO SO GOOD! She works, does her schoolwork online, volunteers at church and does a lot of work with the less fortunate, she helps with kids at St. Mary (Hudson where we go to Church) she helps with food distribution at Saint Al's in Cleveland and she is so very Catholic and so very "good". Marisa decided to become Catholic at the age of 12, she went through RCIA by herself because her hippie parents were not into organized religion, she actually put up with a bit of ridicule from her siblings and at times, me, for getting to involved in the Church. When she was 13 she was baptized and she has truly earned the nickname Mother Theresa. Marisa pretty much set rules for herself and followed them, she found her guidelines by going to church. I realized to late that this particular child, needed structure and had to find it on her own and that makes me so very sad. Because of her inspiration I am now going through RCIA and looking forward to calling myself "Catholic" I LOVE the faith and dispite it's bad press and failings through the years, the core of the church is beautiful, mysterious and so NOT what I thought. So while my ponderings may make us all sound like a big ball of dysfunction, we are and we are not all at the same time. This is a family that loves each other, deeply, celebrates and enjoys what we have set up here. It's a family of different people sharing the same space and time and learning how to deal with differences in a constructive manner, sometimes it works and sometimes it does not. What will our kids take away from being raised by Scott and I? LOVE, even though it really isn't all you need...<br />
UPDATE 11/2012: <span style="color: red;">Marisa left the Catholic church, I didn't make it through RCIA, it ended up being to closed minded and a bit to stuffy for us, we now choose to live a very non fundamentalist life.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-2542967822316979082011-11-15T11:14:00.000-05:002011-11-15T11:14:16.104-05:00Reflections on (My) Life and Post Rock And Roll Suicide Part 1So obviously I don't really know how to "blog" I didn't research it before I jumped in (little insight into my personality right there). Someone said it was journaling online so OK I can do that. I started out wanting to write about my years as a working lead singer/songwriter in bands and now that I have done that, I would like very much to write about what that created and the person I am now. Because I started this project for my children to get to know me as a person and not just a Mom I thought there is so so much more than that part of my life that I would just "journal" randomly about whatever comes up. <br />
After my years spent with Unit 5, I got married and quit music all together. I loved domestic life, well it was not your average domestic life but to me it was Ozzy and Harriet. Now that I have a more realistic view of "normal" I think it's hilarious I thought I was domestic and settled. Tony and I had our roles, he worked (hard) and I stayed home (a few odd jobs now and again like Burger King on Arlington St). I liked to do (and I still do) housey stuff, cleaning, cooking, decorating, organizing, napping. I eventually got my license and began doing hair for David Daniel's and Glemby's. I HATED it, but after my seperation it kept us, Cory and I, afloat for a while, enough to have a really cute apartment at Highland Square, right on Market across from Dodies and Annabelles, The Bucket (some of you will remember). I remember one night I had no show it was a weekend and it was Christmas time, Cory and I stayed awake and had hot chocolate (he was 3 or 4) and watched all the people leave the bars at 2 AM, snow was coming down really hard and I loved the noise of the street when the bars let out, there were pretty lights and it was one of those frozen in time moments, I had big windows so we just sat and watched, it was way better than sleeping. I loved my apartment it was the first time in my life I felt like I wasn't anybody's "thing" or anybody's "belonging" I was my own person with no one to answer to about anything, it was odd and took some getting used to. I didn't feel like a piece of human garbage because there was no one around to make me feel that way. Tony came to visit Cory, we had a fine working relationship at that point but he still let me know now and again that I had failed at everything. Eventually he lightened up and we got over it and became very close. My Dad didn't have much to do with us at that point, which was nice, so I didn't feel like I was failing him on any level, like weighing 130 instead of 115. After I got out from under everyone's influence I gained a few pounds which I thought was stress, but (again looking back) it was because no one cared if I actually ate things that were fattening. My dad always compared me to my Mother who was 90 pounds soaking wet (we used to try to fatten her up to 100 pounds when she got to thin) he said he always thought I would be his "skinny one" but when I got up to 130 I guess that was to much and it made him sad I was letting myself go. I remember one Thanksgiving he asked me (in front of everyone) if I was really going to eat a piece of pie. I was a size 8, maybe a 10 but I doubt it. Then Tony (God rest his soul and I really mean that I have no bad feelings for him anymore I have grown to love him all over again in my mind and heart, not LOVE like I have for Scott but love because he was my friend) told me before we got married if I ever gained weight he would sleep on the couch and when I got pregnant with Cory he did. So without the ever watching eyes to judge me in my OWN very own apartment, I was so content and centered I had my gorgeous, perfect son and he loved me unconditionally even I was a fat ass at 130 pounds I was happier and he thrived because of that. Any Mother out there who is in a relationship that seems toxic, if you get the courage to change things, your happiness reflects in your children and they thrive in a less hostile environment, it's amazing. All children want is love, they want happy parents that show them life is good and I really think a single parent can provide a stable, nurturing home, sometimes (a lot of the time) better than a 2 parent family that is I really like (and this is going to be such a blow to the women's rights movement because let's face it I'm that influential...ok for those of you who don't know me that was a joke) the classic, male / female roles it's not for everyone and it shouldn't be, people should do what makes them happy right? I personally, love cooking, taking care of the house, the kids, the pets, I like decorating my home and shopping at Hobby Lobby. I enjoy baking and candles and blankets and a fire in the fireplace. It's especially great when the kids play music and everyone is home. I remember last Christmas, it was probably the best Christmas of my entire life, maybe even better than when I got my purple Schwinn bike with a sissy bar and a silver glittery bananna seat, but maybe not. We were all "home" it was Christmas evening, my daughter Emma invited (finally) the boy she had liked for 2 years over and he came to visit and that was adorable because they so obviously liked each other and young romance is awesome. Marisa had no plans at church which was a rare thing and she was home, my son had his friend Dan over, we love Dan he is like a second son. We all sat on the floor in the living room and Cory played guitar and we all sang, Cory did a few of his songs and we had a little living room concert, Emma was upstairs with new boyfriend and they were laughing, and that's always special when there is laughter in the house. Scott was laying down on the couch in the family room by the fire, watching television. The dogs were laying around loving all the people and attention. We were picking at leftovers, the tree was gorgeous (Marisa did the entire 10 foot tree herself) and I felt like I understood (finally) what makes me happiest, and I decided then and there I never want to worry again about how many CD's I've sold (or didn't sell) or if someone liked my music, or thought my lyrics were simplistic, or what the critics would say about me getting older and fatter, it wasn't about who I knew or what I should do with my life in my 50's, I was doing it! I was doing what I was supposed to do, I was enjoying the beautiful family I raised dispite great challenges, I was reasoning the fruits of my labor, I was watching myself evolve through the eyes of my children, they were happy, they were thriving and dispite my best efforts I didn't screw everything up! I have gone back and forth in my (music) career because I missed the creative side so much, I love to create the music but I don't especially like to perform anymore because I am feeling my age and I don't want to be judged on that so I am shying away from live shows more, I miss it on some level but I don't like the stress of worrying about how many people will show, and if I will look like a middle aged Mom trying to be cooler than she is .who is my core audience now, bla bla bla. I am going to write music, it's what I do and I don't know how to stop, I am going to sing my music MYSELF and not sell my songs to a more marketable female maybe pop/country crossover artist. I will play in churches and halls and bookstores and coffee shops, in living rooms whatever..but I won't care if I am marketable, I'm not and it doesn't matter because my greatest pleasure is my family, but I would be lying if I said I don't love the music.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-35813170884030838752011-11-14T23:37:00.001-05:002013-09-11T10:36:08.755-04:00Cliffs (a random poem I decided to post)<span lang="">Cliffs<br />
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All bottled up like fine wine or genies, my words can't escape with the smoke from the thurible. My prayers in my throat, do not wander or float, they drop round my feet in a slow motion picture.<br />
<br />
Passion escapes but has no direction, spiraling like demons to the house where the Godless live. Seeping through walls that were meant to keep secrets so no one would fear what they cannot believe in.<br />
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Stuck in the center of the body that keeps me, lay all of the promise that finally grew cold, like all good intentions that fall from the edges of cliffs with no fences and no hands to hold.<br />
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The pew is a hard wood no comfort for sinners, remind me I'm lowly, entwined in the splinters. Like Christ come to show me the thorns in his crown, I show him my movie, he cries at the end.<br />
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All bottled up like sand in a glass, I turn upside down and receive one more chance. Dizzy from spinning and gnawing my way, up for a breath and a glimpse of the day. Yet I glimpse nothing new, but the lines in my face my reflection is faint like a mist in this place so I see yet I don't and I can't resist so I turn to the glass and my own lips I kiss.<br />
<br />
Tracey 2011</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-75286618999824768352011-06-13T22:28:00.000-04:002012-11-29T14:11:10.424-05:00What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger.OK let's just do this. I have not blogged in so very long because I knew this post was coming. I can't tell my story without it, but having to face it, well.......not sure it's worth it but I will tell you before I finish, if I even do finish.<br />
In 1981 I married at the age of 22. I was madly in love with fellow punk rocker singer Tony of Trudee and the Trendsetters. We met, we fell in love, we did a duet "I Got You Babe" by Sonny and Cher and we were the it couple. I didn't know at the age of 20 that love was all consuming, I was not sure that I liked it one bit and I am (quite frankly) still not sure. At the age of 21 I had lost the battle and I gave in to this thing that people live forever to find, I was in love and I couldn't deny that and fortunately , for me, so was Tony. We were young, blonde, rock star wannabe's having the time of our lives and it is something, someone, sometime that I can stuff away but never, truly forget, try as I might. We moved in together in 1981, actually I moved into the house he shared with his brother and a couple of friends, on Lovers Lane in Akron. I must have been out of my mind in love because I moved from Bath to Lovers Lane and I was happier than I had ever been. I got a job at the Burger King on Arlington and I walked or took the bus so I must have been a little dazed and confused..but I did it and I only met wonderful people when I lived there, I liked my neighbors and the customers at Burger King, it was not what I had imagined in my little all white party girl world, it was new and exciting and I started to really care about the people I was meeting. Lower class, middle class, upper class, it doesn't really mean anything, people are either good or bad, happy or sad, and it doesn't much matter after that does it? My neighbors in Bath would not have been one one hundredth as kind to me as my neighbors on Lovers Lane, and I was very unlikeable and out of place with my clothes and my hair and my attitude, but no one there cared...they decided if they liked me or they didn't and that was that. I remember once while I lived there (there was a lot of petty theft) someone helped themself to my new bike, I saw it sitting outside of a grocery store down the road in "no man's land" on Arlington St. I went in, threatened to beat the crap out of whomever took it if they gave me "one bit of shit" while I took it back and rode it home, I did, and no one followed me. My guess was they were standing there in shock for at least a few minutes while this skinny white bitch walked in and told them all off threatening bodily harm to a room full of very large bikers and gang bangers. That day I was not a member of either gang, I was just a stupid girl in love who wanted her damn bike back and I got it. When I told Tony he was more than a little mad at my ignorance and I decided I probably got really lucky and he was absolutely right. We married in 1981 when I was only 22 and Tony 25 but it seemed like the right thing to do. We stayed on Lovers Lane for 5 years before moving to a little duplex his brother purchased in Ellet. It was around that time that we decided to have a child together. When I was 27 years old I realized what life was all about when I first held my son, my first child, Cory (named after Tony's favorite baseball God Cory Snyder, had it been my choice he was to be Oliver but no one wanted him to get the crap beat out of him in school so Cory it was). I went through DAYS of labor, try as I might I could not have this child because of the size of my pelvis (who knew)? Fortunately before they let me die, they did an emergency c-section and Tony was there through the whole thing. He was so so good to me when I was sick or crazy and I was usually one or the other. I remember my dad never left for 3 days, he just stayed there. My Mother came and went and for her it was so awesome that she tried because she was so scared and nervous and for her that meant, not dealing with it (I get it). After Cory was born my dad brought me the cutest damn thing I had ever seen, it was a satin football jacket with the official Chicago Bears logo (orange and blue) because Tony was such a die hard Bears fan. It was Cory's first gift and it hangs in my bedroom closet today, it's about as big as my foot and I will never forget how cute he was in that thing and I will never forget that I knew my Father loved me, something I had never been sure of until I saw how scared he was that I wouldn't make it and how special his gift to us was, it was sentimental and meaningful and it spoke volumes. Tony LOVED it and Cory wore it until he was probably 2. There are things about my life as Mother that I did not understand, there were things I understood completely and one of them was this...a whole lot of changing had to happen or Tony and I would not make it, this child was to important and I suddenly was not willing to compromise his destiny to hold my marriage together. When Cory was 2 it was over, I had to make a move so he would grow up with every possibility available to him. Tony's depression was starting to take over, it was no longer a situation that was "sometimes" it was all consuming and his drinking worsened and his ability to function failed. I tried every which way to fix and mend and cover it up and pretend but finally I needed to get myself together and make a life for my child. If Cory hadn't come along I probably would have stayed so I feel in some odd way Cory came to save me and he did. I will NOT ever disclose the specifics of the things we went through, Tony was not Tony by the time it all went down, he was a shell of the wonderful guy I met and married and I forgive him, I will not look back with blame because we both had to deal with each other's issues and my inmaturity had to be hard to deal with. After we seperated Tony called me one night in a horrible state of mind and asked if I could please come stay with him, he was sick and he needed meds. I went over but realized I couldn't handle the state he was in, he was so so down, sad and actually physically sick from trying to quit drinking and my heart broke. I ran and got him a 12 pack because he begged me for it and I could not stand seeing him suffer like that. I then called Mike (his brother) and I went home. Being back there in that house, in that cycle was to much and I had to go. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was coming to a head and that my time with Tony, who had become one of my best friends at that point, was over. It was not long before I got the call one morning from Mike, wonderful, long suffering, Mike...that Tony had killed himself. For a matter of minutes, time did not exist, it just.......stopped, it came to a hault and there was no, past, present or future, it was all just......silence and everything went gray, my kitchen, on Smith Rd. where I was standing went gray, the phone was yellow, the cabinets were blue and white but for a few minutes, seconds, years...who knows, they were gray and there was no time. (Gotta pause to get through this one brb)......<br />
OK, I remember Mike saying "Tracey, Tony's dead, I'm sorry". Then, I slowly (in my mind) began to fall to the ground, but it was all slow motion and I heard my Mother, who was standing there, saying "What is it"? "What's wrong are you OK"? She was panicked and she sounded like she was talking from 2 houses away because my hearing was gone for the most part, replaced by this ringing sound that blocked out everything. I was so aware of dropping, my legs just gave and I began to drop and it felt like it took so long to hit the ground, I heard the phone bounce off the floor and I heard my Mother pick it up and say "OH MY GOD NO" but again she sounded so far away. The only thing that I knew at that minute, which was really more like an hour, was that I was not alive anymore, I had left the plain of existence we function on and entered a plain of existence that was not real, or not, here, it just wasn't anything and suddenly neither was I. The only thing I remember after I hit the floor was taking the phone back and saying to Mike "What am I going to do now" and he simply said "I don't know Trace" and there my memory ends for a few moments, an hour, I'm not sure it's blank. I know when I came "out of it" there were people at the house, my sister and that's all I know but there were people there, Tony's sister in law and his Mother came and when I ran out to the driveway to hug Betty (his Mother) I collapsed. Then the time came for me to tell Cory who was 4 years old. All he said was "Do you mean MY Daddy, the one who brings me stuff"? I said yes and he asked if he could go ride his bike and I said yes. It's odd because it was December but it must have been warm enough for him to go ride because I just watched him go around in circles over and over and I was scared because he didn't cry or yell, he just got the news and went outside to ride his bike. The realization would hit him a few months later in the heart of downtown Gatlinburg Tenn. on a street full of people, when we were on a little vacation, just the two of us. Cory started laughing hysterically saying "My Daddy Died" to everyone around him and then he cried uncontrollably and I took him back to the hotel and went home the next day, it was a devestating thing to watch and I felt completely alone in the world, the only one there to piece him back together but I was so glad it finally hit and he got it out of his system, well I'm not sure that's a true statement but he finally released some of it.<br />
One of the hardest things was Christmas at Tony's Mom's house. Tony had planned and arranged everything including making it all right with the Catholic Church he so cherished and he even picked the dates of things to come, he was buried on our wedding anniversary and I couldn't even make it to the service because the black hole I was in had no ladder yet, I was trapped and could not get out, so I missed it. I did make the calling hours, I remember Mark (Jendrisak) coming because I love him so much I remember he was there, he said he really didn't know what to say and I lost it, Bob and Ricky Ethington came, I remember that. I also remember walking up to the casket and trying to talk to him, his Mom held me up and said it was all OK, she was trying to help ME and she was strong as an ox, her pain was beyond comprehension and I love her so much I will be forever grateful for everything she was to me in this life and on that day. But I digress.....Christmas Day, Tony had been buried Dec. 12 so this was pretty rough...we went to the Bandrowsky's for Christmas with Joe and Betty , his parents whom I adored and under the tree there were presents for Cory, from Tony, he had taken the time to make sure Cory was taken care of and my heart split into little tiny pieces, some of which I am not sure ever found there way back to the puzzle. There was a note on them, saying that this was from "Daddy" and he was there, that sort of thing. Betty brought in the suicide note for me to see, but I couldn't read it, I never could, I never did, I still haven't and I guess I never will but she did tell me that he came to her a few days before he followed through with the suicide and said that I was and would always be his great love, his best friend, so he died not hating me, though he could have hated me, he did for a while I know that, and it was nice to know he resolved that in his heart as I have resolved it in mine. So that's that, enough, I did it.....I told it and now it goes back where it belongs, for a good long time because I can't do this again for a very very long time. Who knows where it belongs actually, but it does not belong in my mind and thoughts all these years later, it's to much to hash through it...thanks for listening. TTAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-9955408935612675972011-03-29T09:56:00.000-04:002012-11-29T14:02:02.679-05:00Pervs a PlentyDownstairs JB's in Kent in 1980 was quite the place to be if you were into the whole punk thing. Bar was dirty, grafitti in the bathrooms, concrete steps down to the dungeon which was the club, fire escape overlooking the railroad tracks that could possibly collapse at any minute, sticky floors and the coolest people on the planet, every Thursday night when Unit 5 played. There was basically just a lot of drinking and dancing, not much talking because it was far to loud to hear anyone speak. I loved playing Thursday's at JB's. Upstairs was (usually) The Numbers Band and I loved them, so I would get away from the punk drama downstairs and go up and watch them play, it was a different crowd entirely, different atmosphere entirely. I actually really liked the "scene" upstairs more than down, but I was playing my part in the whole Punk movement so I never really fessed up about that. I got some flack from some people in the crowd for my clothes/hair etc. Most everyone was really really nice but sometimes people were really mean to me just because I looked like a punk. One time someone spit on me just because of the way I looked. Punks were not 100 percent loved in Kent in the early 80's. The guy that spit on me was actually the brother of the guy I was dating, he introduced me to his brother and he didn't say a word he just spit on my feet. I became friendly with Mike Stacey from The Numbers Band, he was always so sweet and we would talk about music, have a beer and hang out. To be part of the crowd at a Numbers Band show at JB's in 1980 was incredibly cool. I think we all knew we were seeing something special that we were lucky to have in this area. I still really love to see them and it's 30 years later. I got into a confrontation (again) with some guy who hated the downstairs punks and told me I should go back down, then we argued about music and how the stage downstairs was lit, how loud it was, how bad it was, he went on and on and on. Finally Mark came and got me before the guy hit me and we went back down and played our gig. The same night, some guy was thrown out for sketching photos of me while I was on stage, no big deal except in his renderings I was completely naked, I wasn't a fan of his artwork so out he went. So typical Thursday at JB's down KENT 1980, I would do it again in a second.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-46455801582725192992011-03-15T23:08:00.000-04:002012-11-29T14:00:20.469-05:00The Akron Sound Bands Official Athletic Association!OK we were punks, but we were also ATHLETES BABY! Someone decided to start a Sunday softball game, playing at Akron U, every week, just for fun. The teams would be made up of all the people in the bands. We HAD to look like freaks, of all the things we did in the day, this is what I wish I had filmed. Brothers of band members played, girlfriends, whatever it was so fun. I think Mikey from Hammer Damage started the whole thing. There were members of (some of the entire bands were there actually most everyone came) Hammer Damage The Action Chi Pig Unit 5 The F Models Trudee and the Trendsetters and more. I think Johnny Teagle played (brother of Augy from U5 and a musician himself he was one of the Walking Clampetts). We split into 2 teams every week and played softball. It was very apparent that I was going to be the last one picked most of the time, especially after the first week when I showed my softball skills. I remember Mike Hammer got mad at me because I was in the outfield and the ball was coming at me and I held my hand up, but then it looked so "close" and like it could kill me so I ducked. Mike didn't pick me again. Tony was fantastic, Tony had been a high school athlete and actually was scouted by The Pitsburgh Pirates or someone, he could pitch left or right handed and I guess that was a big deal. I remember he told me he was so nervous about the try out for the team he drank to much and blew the whole gig, but he was great at the Sunday games! Tony was also a golden gloves boxer, he had so much potential to do SO MUCH with his talents but I think he just never believed he was good enough. Well, I digress but he was fun to watch on a baseball field. Some of us were really serious, some of us were joking the whole time which made the more competitive sportsy punks mad. BUT there we were...Akron U. softball field right on Exchange St. Spandex, cut offs, tight t shirts, spikey hair, striped tights, dog collars, tattoos, cigarettes and beers, playing some "ball" on Sunday, some of us hadn't even been to bed yet, some of us nursing hang overs, some of us......loving every single minute of our youth. One week we played touch football at the school next to my house on Smith Road. My Mom was incredible, she was lovely and gracious and funny and crude and all the bands filed in and hugged her and some even asked her to play football, then we all walked over to the school (GOD what my neighbors must have thought..probably seemed like Armaggedon or something) and played touch football and guess what?? I was really good at that! I remember Iggy and I were suprisingly "not bad" and we were pretty much the last to get picked for every team but it was so fun. Iggy was in The F Models, he was the skinniest, rock star looking guy ever and he wore his guitar so low when he played I thought he was just groovy, he ended up dying way young, and I miss his face. So here we are walking from my house in Bath Twp. over to Herberich Elementary to play some touch football. Again, spandex, metal belts, short cropped t shirts, safety pins, Beatle Boots, spiked hair, shaved heads, blue haired heads, tall skinny lanky looking freaks and geeks with cigarettes and beers and football, on Sunday morning. <strong><em>Those were the days my friend, I thought they'd never end, we'd sing and dance forever and a day, we lived the life we choose, we'd fight and never lose, those were the days oh yes those were the days.... </em></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-2228998851203083682011-03-15T11:59:00.000-04:002012-11-29T13:57:42.043-05:00Hanging on the Roof With My FriendsOne night that I retained for whatever reason was so fun and such a good memory for me that I thought I would share it even though it's not spectacular in anyway, it's just a night like any other but not. Tony and I were a couple at this point, not married but dating. We were good friends with his bass player Bob and his girlfriend Patty who was the lead singer of The Waitresses. We were at someone's apartment in Highland Square hanging out on a roof patio, having drinks, talking, watching the sun go down. I remember walking to Mary Coyle's in Highland Square with Patti, we just walked around and talked and went in to get cokes and I heard people at a table laughing. Then I heard someone say "WHO would wear that"? Well, it was me, I wore that. It was a man shirt with matching baggy long shorts, the fabric was brightly colored comic strip design and it was OBNOXIOUS, and I loved it. When I turned around to (more than likely) let the people laughing know how much I didn't give a shit, it turned out to be the guy I dated in high school and his Mom. When he realized it was me, he laughed even harder and said "I should have known". We had a nice little reunion, I forgave him (not her she was a witch) for laughing at my clothes and I left. I remember Patty saying "What are the odds" really? It was strange, I hadn't seen him in probably 4 years. For some reason watching the sun go down on that roof, with those friends, knowing we were all enjoying successful runs as musicians, up and coming bands, it felt like we owned the world. Patty was moving to New York and I envied her so much. I was even jealous when I saw her apartment there for the first time with the bathtub in the kitchen for 1,000.00 a month in the 80's. Life was good, it was special that night. I had no idea in the blink of an eye, Patty would be a cancer casualty and Tony would be the victim of a suicide. Who knew, that night, watching the sun go down on the roof that Bob and I would be old without them and we wouldn't even know each other anymore. I'm sure we share some inner demons and I wonder if he remembers the night on the roof, Highland Square, Akron Ohio, in the time of our greatness....<br />
<strong><em>THIS IS THE LIFE THEY SAY THAT <br />
DREAMS ARE MADE OF <br />
DON'T FORGET <br />
PLEASE DO FORGIVE ME <br />
I STILL HAVE SOMETHING YOU DID GIVE ME <br />
COME INTO MY DREAM WITH ME AND DREAM</em></strong><br />
<strong><em>PLEASE DON'T FORGET <br />
DO FORGIVE ME <br />
I STILL HAVE SOMETHING YOU DID GIVE ME <br />
COME INTO MY DREAM WITH ME AND DREAM <br />
OH DREAM OF PARADISE....Birds Of Paradise, The Pretenders.</em></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-58617812364455019952011-03-15T11:46:00.000-04:002011-03-15T11:46:03.902-04:00New York New YorkI ALWAYS thought I would end up living in Manhattan, I held that dream until WAY into my 30's but different paths, different dramas played out and here I am in my hobbit hole in Hudson Ohio (which is fine by the way I love this town). Unit 5 made a few trips to New York to play, it was always so exciting and fun, we were lucky enough to get booked into the best clubs of "the day" my favorite was Danceteria by far. I believe we played there 2 times, one trip we went up with Hammer Damage and another time Ralph Carney's band opened the show, I remember they sat on the stage and played odd objects, pots and pans and that sort of thing. Ralph was always and still is the most creative guy on the planet. When all is said and done, I am not someone who likes the middle area of anything, I like extremes. I like hot or cold, dark or light, absolute remoteness in my living arena or extreme activity in my living arena. If I had to diagnose myself with something I would say I am definitely bi-polar, no middle ground, I swing wildly like a pendulum during an earthquake. Can't be easy on my family and I have fought this tendency for decades, I like to think when it comes to being a wife and mother, I keep it under control to the best of my ability, I fail sometimes but who doesn't? So me and New York...great fit, the ability to walk out the front door and be somewhere, without even the thought of needing a car, the shopping, the lights, the shows, it was, it is the perfect environment to keep me "calm" believe it or not, New York (I love Chicago as well) keeps me calm! Put me in the heart of the suburbs, in a typical neighborhood environment and I am miserable. I am fortunate enough to live on a very empty street, with a lot of beautiful land and deer and trees, I love that too. If it were up to me I would spend time moving back and forth between city and country, but there is the money thing and I was not destined to be that free wheelin. So Unit 5...New York City, fantastic memories. One time we split up because Mike, Mark and I wanted to go eat at Mama Leoni's and Bob and Augy wanted to go to the art gallery. At the time I was a Steve Martin fanatic, I loved him, he made me laugh and that has always been the key to winning me over, he was my favorite. So, while I was having an INCREDIBLE authentic Italian meal, Bob and Augy were touring the art museum with Steve Martin who was behind them the entire time. GOD! The things I have given up for food. Another time, Mark and I were walking through the Village and a reporter from The NY Times Magazine, came up and ask if they could photograph me for the fashion section so there I am on the street in NY having my photo taken because I was an example of the up and coming clothes thang! Ironic because before the trip I thought everything I had was to "Akron" middle class so my aunt bought me this incredible red and white sailor suit with a mini skirt and there you have it, me in the Times Magazine fashion section as a trendsetter. I loved Gramercy Park, I loved the theater district, everything about it makes me feel at home. I actually felt a connection with the city as if I had "come back" to something I knew, it's really odd. The first time I ever saw the buildings in the distance when we were driving in, I started to cry like a homesick person finally coming back. I can't explain how it makes me feel to be there, but I haven't been in a long time, I miss it so much and I would LOVE to take my kids there, it would be like showing them who I am, who I really am and not the cookie baking Hudson Mom they have come to know, money is a tricky thing, it controls who we are, who we can be and what we appear to be to others. Because of money, I appear to be the exact opposite of my true self. I hope someday I can go back and get to know me again....<strong><em>These little town blues, are melting away, I'll make a brand new start of it, in old New York.If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere, it's up to you, New York New York</em></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-32525655230520014672011-03-14T13:51:00.000-04:002011-03-14T13:51:41.415-04:00Stiv Bators Birthday PresentUnit 5 played with The Dead Boys a few times when they were in town, I got a lot of crap for that, from Tony, who thought we were to pop and didn't deserve the shows. It made me feel really bad, because I disagreed completely and we butted heads about that before we were even in a relationship, he always let his opinion fly. The Dead Boys were certified rock stars at that point, it was as if, when someone said either The Sex Pistols or The Dead Boys they had to say them both. Here's an example of how "hand in hand" they were. "I like punk, I'm really into THE SEX PISTOLS they are my favorite.....and THE DEAD BOYS. That's an example I made up, just to show you how popular The Dead Boys were, they were like The Sex Pistols, see what I mean...I did it again. So Stiv was from Youngstown, we had some mutual friends and I met him through the inner circle. For some reason he liked me, a lot, we talked, he let down his "I am a severely demented rock star" persona a few times over the years I knew him and I was fond of his more mellow regular guy personality and he did have that side to him, but he was also a wild man in the clubs and on stage. One night at JB's Down in Kent, a few of us were out to see a band, I can't even remember who it was but we stayed until closing. Stiv and I were just hanging out in the bar as the lights went up and he was being Stiv the rock star not Stiv, from Youngstown. Last call had since passed and he was piss drunk and wanted another drink but they wouldn't serve him, understandably it was after hours at that point. So in true punk rock fashion, I watched him go around to all the tables that had not been cleaned up and drink the beer residue from all the glasses and bottles left, even the ones with cigarette butts and ashes, then called me something vulgar but hilarious actually because I was sure I was going to throw up. I won't forget that, he was absolutely hardcore and he was not faking it, Stiv was the ultimate punk and he had a vibe that could only be described as the "It" factor, he wasn't pretty, he was cool as hell though and anyone who knew him would probably agree. So months later the Dead Boys come back through and played the bank. It was Stiv's birthday or it was close to Stiv's birthday and the band was definitely celebrating. Stiv had gotten me a job singing with an all girl band "The B Girls" in Toronto (if I wanted it). He had really gone to bat for me and pulled some strings, he was a friend of Debbie Harry's and she was using The B Girls on her AutoAmerican album that was being recorded at the time. I was to move to Toronto and join the band and work with (ironically) enough Blondie, who was also using The B Girls as her opener on an upcoming tour. I remember he gave me the B Girls 45 to see what I thought of them and they were very cool. I felt like that would have been my fork in the road, had there been one, that was it. That night at The Bank was so fun, I had not made the decision to say NO to The B GIRLS (But I would eventually come to that decision) so all was well and everyone was having fun. At one point the band yelled from the back of the club, for Stiv to come get his present and he walked towards the back and just as he did, the band (The Dead Boys) surrounded me, picked up and made a circle around Stiv and I and presented me as his Birthday present, I guess it was "just what he wanted" and I was actually more than a little frightened, I had seen these guys in action and I knew there were no limits to the depravity they sought. So I guess I was the present, only...no one asked me. Turned out we danced, he couldn't have been sweeter. I am not sure if this was the night that his girlfriend at the time, BeBe Buell ( mother of Liv Tyler) was there, but she was there one night and very unhappy with my presence and very unhappy about being in a dive bar in Akron. I remember Tony was so excited to meet her, she was absolutely gorgeous I must say. But the Stiv days were fun, he was fun, he was RUDE and wild and obviously full of something that drew people in, great performer and front man, I really liked him but I was always aware of the scary stuff. I said no to The B Girls, I couldn't leave Unit 5 at the time, I had to see where it was going with "my band" and I loved those guys like brothers and I still do 30 odd years later, so that made it worth it, I still have my "guys" in my life, Mark a lot, Bob, enough (HA) and if I ever needed to talk to Augy or Mike, they are there. I am not sure I could say that had I screwed everyone over to go to Toronto, I made the right choice and I don't wonder "what if" anymore because if you think about it, how many of you have heard of The B Girls anyway? So it is what it is, Stiv has long since passed away after being struck by a car in Paris. He got up and walked out of the hospital (or so that's what I was told) in true Stiv fashion, without even knowing his injuries would do him in within hours, rock star until the end...<strong><em>Living to fast I've got my head in full throttle I saw a screaming skull in the bottom of a bottle. Can't stand up, honey, got my tongue on the floor<br />
Living out a dream 'bout the third world war</em></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-28535025311085234762011-03-04T20:06:00.000-05:002011-03-04T20:06:39.315-05:00I Now Have A Stylist! Unit 5 Takes On The Akron Civic TheaterOFF WITH HER HAIR! Some wonderfully flamboyant guy named Jeff but I believe it was Geoff, the cool way like Chuck and Mary Auerbach's Geoff, not Jeff. I feel really bad I can no longer remember his last name we had fun "changing me up" now and again but there were a lot of people running around messing with stuff back then. He approached me after a show and said he would love to be my stylist and would I come to his salon and talk with him. GORGEOUS SALON! I remember I said yes because I was tired of being Debbie Harry the sequel and it was in Bath which was right down the road from my house so I went to talk with him. He gave me wine at the door and we looked at photos and he told me his ideas and I felt like he knew what I needed so I got my makeover, new make up (he thought the putting on of the mascara then rubbing my eyes to make it smear was a little harsh) new hair and I LOVED IT! I had short, pixie, boy hair and softer eyes and lips and I felt really wonderful about it all. We picked out a purple spandex jump suit with big MC Hammer legs at the top and narrow at the bottom (Can't touch this)! It had a red belt and I got red flats to go with it, I felt all "new" and so not like anyone else, he dyed my signature blonde hair back to it's natural state of bla dark blonde and highlighted it and it looked more like hair and not at all like cotton candy which took some getting used to. Like the mascara rub, I liked the cotton candy hair. I was to present my new "THANG" at The Akron Civic Theater for our biggest show ever (venue size, seats), with Hammer Damage (If I am wrong here feel free to tell me but I think it was Hammer Damage). Unit 5 had yet to recieve any bad press or reviews, we were kind of lucky when it came to winning over the critics, they seemed to like our offbeat way of presenting. My new look was a huge success, band loved it, fans loved it, I loved it, my Mother was thrilled because she did not like the mascara rub much. But THE CRITIC FROM THE F*&^)*ING AKRON BUCHTELITE DIDN'T LIKE IT! The Akron Buchtelite, Akron University paper ( I think that was the name) I saved the article for all these years because it was so NASTY I wanted to show it to my kids but I haven't yet, I should do that tonight while everyone is home...fun! I am digressing again (is that a word)? So here are, for your blog reading entertainment, some excerpts from the first and one of the few (THANK YOU) bad or less than kind reviews of Unit 5.<br />
"Unit 5 is to bizarre for the bizarre, lead singer Tracey Thomas came out with chip chopped hair, wearing purple spandex". It went on to say a few more unflattering things about MY NEW MAKEOVER and then to top it off, after all that referred to me as a "Debbie Harry" clone. I wasn't even blonde now, I was 20, she was like...90! I found out later that the writer from the paper (who I guess was actually really nice we never met but I heard things) recieved (way before email people this was 1980ish) a bunch of boo hiss letters from Unit 5 fans who liked my new look. It was apparent also at this time that if you lived in Akron you better be ready for the backlash if you compare Tracey to Debbie Harry. And here's the best part of it all, looking back...I WAS SO DEBBIE HARRY! I had that whole thing wrong, I should have embraced and enjoyed it, so much of my life is now me saying things like "If I had only done this" or "that" or bla bla bla. Debbie Harry was the shit! WHAT just kept me fighting and fighting against enemies of my own making? Why was I so difficult? What would have become of Unit 5 if I hadn't been........me? ELECTRIC FACES SEEM TO MERGE, HIDDEN VOICES, MOCK YOUR WORDS, FADE AWAY AND RADIATE, FADE AWAY AND RADIATE.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-35704357816845120882011-03-04T19:32:00.000-05:002011-03-04T19:32:07.558-05:00Jane Scott Wants An Interview With TraceySo if you lived in Cleveland/NE Ohio for any amount of time in the last 5 decades you know who infamous rock writer Jane Scott is, probably, high probability of that, that you know who she is.<br />
U5 has been signed to Clone Records (thanks Nick Nicholas) and before the LP comes out there is much todo about it all, that's just part of the routine. Getting even a blur from Jane Scott was something all artists, national, and local hoped for. Dave Whitt informed me that she wanted to interview me (specifically) when we were doing a press day in Cleveland. We met at Pirate's Cove I believe it was but someplace of that calibur, daytime before club opens kind of setting. I was very nervous to meet her and very anxious NOT to come across as a dumb blonde singer having her 15 min. I was not accustomed to going it without the guys so I believe they were in the club when I sat down on the stage with Jane Scott, just the two of us talking about stuff. I was ready to impress her with all my deepness and uniqueness, I was ready to break free of the endless comparison to Debbie Harry, not because she wasn't wonderful, but because I wanted to be more uniquer than that (I know that was wrong but it worked didn't it)? 1 min. into the interview/conversation she took out her pencil and legal pad and started bombarding me with questions about my likeness to Debbie Harry. "Did she inspire your sound"? "Did she inspire your look"? No, No, Not really, I think she's swell and all, I actually do have a Blondie LP, the first one, with Rip Her To Shreds, yes, great song, finally she just said "Can you really ignore the similarities here"? I said most enthusiastically YES, YES I CAN! I discovered Debbie Harry when Heart Of Glass came out, yes I knew who she was and what she looked like. For the most part, her music was just OK for me, not really inspirational enough to model my career after. I thought she was lovely and I liked her look, but I wasn't seeing it as "I want to copy that". I was definitely going for the Marilyn Monroe vibe, I did the retro look when I wasn't on stage, cropped pants, button down blouses, flats, Marilyn and Audrey Hepburn were my style influences but she wouldn't believe me, she just kept saying it was "uncanny" and Cleveland's own Debbie Harry but I wasn't even from Cleveland I was from Akron...West Side, Case Elementary, Swensons, Hardesty Park, the little metal elephant slide, Forest Lodge ice skating, Stan Hywett flowers in the spring and The Indian statue outside of what used to be the elementary school, by Bissons Grocery, where the hell did Bissons go anyway?<br />
Oh well, it's water under the proverbial bridge now (was that a proverb)? The Cleveland Plain Dealer article was short and sweet, compared me to Debbie Harry, every which way but loose, said some nice things, I was honored to have the attention and press but I just did not feel like anyone was getting it, me...at all. OFF WITH HER HAIR!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-41164675344407825812011-03-04T17:55:00.000-05:002012-12-01T07:31:49.370-05:00St. Vincent gets petition to bring Unit 5 in for concert. Amazing Grace IndeedThere are many things I am not proud of, I am not proud of many things, this is one of those "things" that I am sharing. I wish that I could do it differently but alas, it is what it is.<br />
So these "kids" decided to start a petition for Unit 5 to play at St. Vincent St. Mary in Akron, or as it is now known "The High School LeBron James Attended". Somehow they pulled it off and we were going to do our first high school thing. I think the Giffel boys were somehow behind this if I remember correctly, but you would probably have to be an Akron scenester to know the Giffels, David is now a published and incredibly swell author outside of our Akron bubble so I am certain many of you know David Giffels. Well please keep in mind (especially my children who may read this someday) I grew up playing music in bars, or at least it seemed like it, I had an attitude and a "style" that was very appropriate for the day, the time the movement, whatever. In my (18/19ish) teenager brain it did not register, actually not even a little bit, that playing a high school might call for a different attitude, or decorum. It was a gig, I was gonna do what I do, when I do and who I do it to and that was auto pilot for me. My (extremely) Catholic daughter is not going to appreciate this one at all. Well the students were really happy, we were flattered that they picked us and worked so hard to get it all approved. The Unit 5ers were after all, the Osmonds of the punk movement, we were basically really nice, not to drunk or drugged, for the most part, some of the time, and having us play a Catholic school was pretty safe. Why my mouth did not get us permanantly banned from ever entering another high school, I will never know actually, but my clothing choice definitely got us thrown out. If you know me now, you know that I am a perfect example of how much the human body will grow and expand if you let it and you will also know, if you knew me then and now (lucky) that my weight issues have plagued me forever. I have struggled with an eating disorder, of one kind or another most of my existence, beginning at age 14 when I prefered to be exremely skinny. My weight issues were always of the "don't lose to much more" "are you sick you look to thin" kind. It is only the last decade of my life that really has seen me keep to much weight on my body, and ironically it is because my eating disorder has changed it's mind and made me fatter than I want to be, which is funny only to me and my dead Mother, maybe my Sister if she remembers all I went through in fear of gaining a pound or GOD FORBID two pounds. Mark probably remembers God knows he heard me blab about it enough, not unlike I am now doing. Tony would remember, Scott didn't know how bad I was before he was in my life and I was way better by the time he came along but he still thought I was obsessed. Anyway, at that point it was very important to me to look very thin and not unhealthy exactly, but very tired was good, it fit the vibe. I used to think some of the guys in the band looked so cool with dark circles under their eyes, there was a time when I rubbed my mascara so it would smudge underneath because it was a good look in my mind, and well, on my face, I like a lot of things that no one understands. So because I was so "svelte" I was able to make some clothing choices that were extreme and daring and of my own design. I liked to shock people, I wasn't slutty, I was just "odd". For this show at St. V (Catholic High School) I decided I would simply wear a leotard with some ripped up tights and a shirt that was slit all over, color theme, green to show school spirit...duh (Charlie Sheen again). So my school spirit and I, and my band, showed up at the door and we could hear the kids saying "THE BAND IS HERE, THEY ARE HERE, WE CAN SEE THEM" it was so funny, they were really excited and we wanted to go in and meet everyone, the lights were still up a bit and we were waving at everyone. Having heard the commotion at the door one of the Nuns came to greet us and when she saw me she gasped. I of course thought it was my stunning beauty, the contrast of my white skin and my dark lips, eyeliner, smudged mascara, and of course, my incredible outfit that overwhelmed her, I mean, come on...I was a rock star she was a nun, probably hadn't been exposed to the greatness of people like me, much in her life, so I gave her a moment, let her get collected before I hit her with my mega watt big white tooth smile (that years of habitual ice chewing have robbed me of at this point so karma chameleon baby)...everyone said I smiled like Marilyn Monroe so I used it in excess, when I wanted to get my way, I worked the smile or the pouty face, GOD I WOULD HAVE HATED ME if I had known me, but I just recently met me. Well, the smile didn't work, she got over me like lightning, not only was she "over me" she was all up on me and shit (see what I did there). "YOU CAN'T COME IN HERE WITHOUT PANTS ON" "WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS" " ANYONE ELSE IN THIS BAND COME WITHOUT PANTS ON". You leave here until you find some pants and then try again....she pushed me out the door to find pants in downtown Akron at dusk, on a day when I was supposed to be the center of attention, playing for my fans and being adored. Instead I was out the door, on my arse (almost literally) looking for my pride and my pants. Well, fashion statement LOST ON HER, the band freaked and of course, Mark and Mike left with me and we ended up going to Mike's car and I put on his work pants from Skyway and pulled them with a tie so as not to loose them and show my ass which obviously was what I was not supposed to do at a High School (who knew)?<br />
I headed back to the door with my bros, my guys, my family, my friends and I tried SO SO SO hard not to say anything, they asked me not to say anything to just let it go so we could play the show. I knew that was the best choice, of course, but once my feelings were "ruffled" for whatever reason, by whomever, I was in defense mode and hard to "turn off" I would have been a tremendous asset had there been a war on US soil back in the day, just make me sad, and off I run taking down everything in my path, including...it would now appear "Wives of Jesus" himself. I didn't know I was going to spew until I got to the door and saw the evil God Goddess again, the one who shamed me, in front of my people. Well, I like very much to come out on top in a battle of words and such and so I couldn't help myself. I did not yell, I was actually kind of classy, more like a whisper when I looked her in the eye and said "You really need to get laid". It was over in a second, I don't know if she feared me or she ignored it, or if she thought it may be the truth, but I was in and I played my show, and I got my last word and I was the rockingest, bitchiest, you can't touch me rock star girl Akron had ever seen, and I have felt bad about it since the moment it left my mouth 30 some odd years ago....AMAZING GRACE HOW SWEET THE SOUND THAT SAVED A WRETCH LIKE ME...I ONCE WAS LOST BUT NOW AM FOUND, WAS BLIND BUT NOW I SEE.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663489490621806819.post-73277045076466208262011-03-04T13:24:00.000-05:002012-12-01T07:28:47.303-05:00Tin Huey Unit 5 The Bank...Didn't See This Coming.So we are completely thrilled that we were chosen to open for Tin Huey when they came home to play The Bank in Akron. This was one of those...take you to another level gigs, earning more respect and attention which we were after, at that point. There was a lot of buzz about Tin Huey coming home and playing The Bank, a lot of local bands wanted the show and we got it, that caused (and this was rare) a few ruffled feathers among the bands who thought we were to pop oriented, not artsy enough, to open for Tin Huey. Valid argument actually, we were, for the most part a pop band. Having said that, you can't put Bob Ethington and Mark Jendrisak in a band, as the rythmn section, and not have a unique, busy, art influence so I felt they were not getting there due. Me...I was pop influenced I admitted it, but it was being thrown around that I had nothing more to offer than a pleasant enough voice and a size 5 butt and some frizzy blonde hair. The general consensus was that I was up there, having fun, being a diva, soaking in the attention, riding the coat tails of the "real" musicians I was lucky enough to be working with. We had only very recently become Unit 5, a lot of these people that would be seeing us, were Tin Huey fans, this was going to be hit or miss and I (personally) had a LOT to prove, and I was feeling it. I lost so much weight and sleep over this, I felt it was the most important thing I would do in my career (you can't underestimate the popularity of Tin Huey in the late 70's early 80's in NE Ohio). So whatever....we were playing the show and I would prove that I was more deserving (we) were more deserving than anticipated...or I wouldn't and that wasn't an option but it was an option I was just trying to be confident right there.<br />
We got to the club a couple hours before showtime, like always we got drinks, played some Space Invaders I had the high score on the machine most of the time, Dave Whitt our manager, and I, back and forth, waiting for rehearsal or a show, playing Space Invaders. I knew how to kick the machine in a way that it would let me play for free, I don't even remember why we knew that but after I got a drink, I would walk up to the machine, kick it and we played, me and Dave (he could shake it and make it play but let's face it, punk chick walking up and kicking the machine with a beer in her hand......way cooler). We went downstairs to the dressing room area set up for some of the bands that played there, not everyone had access but we did, it was such an ego stroking thing to have a dressing room, but WOW it was scary, dark steps, stone walls, concrete floor, cold, sad awful, but HEY! We could throw around things like.."I'll be in my dressing room" and it was fun. I had to change with the guys, it was actually only one room, that's it, but I got used to it, I learned to arrive almost put together to avoid awkwardness and nudity around my mates. While we were downstairs people were coming down to tell us the club was really filling up, then it was...wow it's really filling up...then...wow it's jammed...then...we are going to have to clear a path for you guys to get to the stage. It was insane! I could hear the rumbling upstairs and it definitely sounded like a full house. We got word that Tin Huey had arrived, we had met them before but I believe this was the first shared bill. I would end up staying in touch with them, I still talk to Harvey Gold often. Whenever they play locally (Not as Tin Huey since the passing of Mark Price) I make a point of going to the show, I always loved that band and they are still amazing life, Ralph is always fun, Mike, Stuart and now Bob Ethington is actually part of that band, who knew? Mark Price is so missed, he recorded Unit 5's first demo's at his studio, we really got to know him and enjoy his company, sadly he passed away at the age of 56...But I digress (again).<br />
So it's time, the lights are dimmed, we get our call to go up and at this point, I think even Bob is nervous, I know Augie later confessed he thought he was going to puke. We chose matching police shirts for this show, ties, gray uniform shirts just for fun. We entered the club at the top of the dressing room stairs in the back, when I saw the people I freaked out! They were everywhere, the floor was capacity, they were in the balcony, up to the stage, I had never seen it like this, how many hundreds of people must have been there and where was the fire marshall this was WAY over limit, I think I let out an audible gasp when I saw it. As we made our way to the stage the crowd began to cheer and scream and it was pretty flattering, and very hard on my anxiety ridden psyche. By the time we made it to the stage it was loud and I don't think any of us, expected it or knew how to respond. Augy said thank you I definitely remember that, Mark probably nodded at everyone, Bob probably giggled repeatedly and I probably turned my back to look at Bob (like I always did) and make some dumb face. But we had arrived, Unit 5 was on the Akron map, and believe it or not in the late 70's early 80's that was pretty damn cool....NEVER MIND WHAT YOU MIND KEEP YOUR MIND ON THE WORK.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152316465630315945noreply@blogger.com0